The White Knights' Journey
by Firenope
Summary: Maybe there had been a reason for Gabriel to answer their call. Other than to put them through insane TV show and ultimately tell them to suck it up and "play their roles". Maybe it's not too late to get through him? Maybe Sam's faith has not been utterly wasted on uncaring feathered asses after all. Maybe redemption can be found. Set Just after Changing Chanels and on-going.
1. Chapter 1 - Je sais pas quoi faire

**Je sais pas quoi faire - Téléphone**

(I don't know what to do)

* * *

"You know what Dude, I don't get it. Really! What could possibly be the point? I mean: kidnap us for days, shoot me, bust your balls, and basically make a nuisance of himself, just to tell us to say "yes" to his demented big bros! This is just..."

Dean was ranting nonstop since they left the warehouse lot. Speeding through the suburbs, back to the Motel of the Week, only refraining from banging in the wheel in frustration because... well it was Baby's wheel. Sam tuned out his brother's ranting. His questions were kind of relevant. But Sam had others questions for himself; a few things were bugging him about their weird encounter with the Trickster.

Or more like The Freaking Archangel Gabriel.

Damn...

An archangel popping sweets, reading comics books and binge watching TV shows...

" _My own sets, my own actors."_

So... his own script too right?

 _"Seriously, you're brilliant, you know that? And a coward. You're a brilliant coward."_

 _"So that girl died on your table. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault."_

Did he/she mean Lilith? Well, Lilith died on an altar, not a table but it was close enough. Or was Sam thinking too much into it? It had been almost the opposite of the Trickster speech whent they confronted him.

He had been angry at them then. Had they busted their chances at some point?

Sam shook his head and let his gaze wander on the landscape, a succession of more or less rundown buildings, trying to stop giving all this crap more importance than it truly deserved.

 _"You're afraid to operate again, and you're afraid to love."_

Given how his last relationships/flings has ended, and their way of life, of course he did not want to try again, no need to be a genius or an angel to gess this much.

Sam stifled a sight: seriously, it was getting ridiculous. He could feel Dean, who finally stopped rambling, looking at him curiously.

_Long day, Dude.

_Angels are dicks, and apparently, Archangels are just bigger dicks. Seriously, what took us to think that douchebag could help?

Translate: what took _you_ , since it was Sam who had this fabulous idea.

_ You know, we don't need no one. You, me Cass : once we get the Colt we'll wrap up that Apocalypse and be done with all that crap.

By the way, it seemed that the angel had excused himself when Sam wasn't paying attention. Or just fled, bored.

_ I'm telling you, we no need a son of a bitch who can't even man up an tell his brothers to cut the crap or go fuck themselves.

That was the last drop for Sam. Dean was already opening his mouth to go on the rant. Sam cut in, prissy.

_ Cut the crap, Dean.

His older brother stared at him instead of the road that Sam started to worry about their trajectory.

_ Excuse me?!" Dean went back to looking ahead and straighten the car when its tires started to graze the sideroad.

_ Do you really think that I don't know you enough and will think less of you if you would _just stop pretending_?

_ What?

Being cut mid-rant was doing no good to Dean's brains.

_ No , really Sam, what do you mean?

Now Dean was pissed at him instead of the douchebags from up there. Not that it wasn't a common occurrence lately.

There were so many answers to that: stop pretending he still cared about his monster freak brother, stop pretending he was some super macho, super tough guy when he was _not_ , stop pretending Hell didn't happen, or stop pretending he wasn't terrified by what was waiting for them, the damn Apocalypse, the risk to go back downstairs if/when he'll die again.

The list was long... too long. He was afraid of not being able to stop once started.

Instead, Sam pruned his lips together, shot Dean a "stop pretending you have no idea what I'm talking about for starters" glare and drowned whatever retort his aggravating brother could come up with by increasing the volume of the radio.

Peeved, Dean spat a harsh "Fine", then resumed driving in deafening silence.

Sam went back on looking through the window and rewind the recent events.

 _"You sorry sons of bitches."_

 _"I love you"_

Yeah... sure...

One of the thing Sam did learn about the trickster during those months spend tracking him down, was that he always had a purpose behind his deeds. Even several, most of the time. But that?

Except the kind of obvious, kind of absolutely impossible one; there was none that Sam could fathom.

Say a thing, do another, lure them in that warehouse to just basically, albeit in hi _s_ convoluted ways, tell them to sod off... It did not make any sense. There must have been a point they missed.

Or Sam was thinking way too much.

 _"That's why there's no stopping this...You think you'd be able to relate."_

Yes, Sam could relate, but not exactly the way Gabriel saw it. Not as Sam the rebellious little brother and Dean the faithful soldier. Well...that too of course. But Gabriel story mostly reminded him of his fights with their father, and Dean stuck in the middle, unable to choose a side between two people he loved. Just stand back and watch them tear at each other's throats, trying to clean up the mess afterward. Until it was no longer enough.

There are things a third party could not mend. There were words spoken, actions done, that a third party could not erase.

 _"I love you"_

She had looked so much like it was an _adieu_. Like she had given up. Like _Gabriel_ had given up, on them? on hope?

On him?

The angel had seemed surprised, albeit briefly, when Sam had spoken up, as riled as Dean, and not less aggressive.

And now Sam wondered if they didn't have busted their only chance to get Gabriel to help.

Lost in his thought, his eyes locked on the window but not seeing through, Sam only realized that they were back at the Motel when Dean grabbed his shoulder; looking both grumpy and concerned.

"Whatever you are thinking about, Sam: Don't."

Sam worried his bottom lip, then nodded at his brother, wondering, maybe for the very first time, how much exactly he had hurt Dean by head-butting with John so many times. And now with the whole Ruby thing and its fallout. Anyone could only take so much before giving up.

Dean took his cue and exited the car, intend on leaving the town as soon as their things were packed and tucked in the trunk of his Baby. And probably after the cooler was refilled with ice and beer, though Sam. Not without a hint of bitterness.

He could not blame Dean for trying, badly, to cope with his memories of Hell, or drown them in booze. Did not mean he wasn't worried.

He unfolded him tall body out of the Impala and followed Dean in their room.

* * *

"Dean, the med' that slapped me...

_ Doctor Picolo." Dean prompted, halting in his packing, a revolver in one hand, a pack of cartrige in the other.

Sam had been thoughtful ever since they leaved the warehouse. Or since he cooled down, after exiting the place. And still was, if that little well known front was any indication. Dean would let aside his outburst: he still didn't know what to do with that. Should probably tag it on weariness.

_ What is about her?" The Hell if he knew what was going on in that hairy head of his overgrown little brother.

_ Did... did she have an affair with any of the staff or something, interested in one of them?

Dean stared disbelieving at those pale eyes, blue in the actual light, his own wide. Where did that come from? He emptied his hands in the duffle in front of him and turned fully toward Sam.

_ Just, humor me." Sam added folding a shirt with false casualness. As if it could fool _him_.

Still bewildered, Dean decided to play along, for now. Maybe Sam would go to the point, someday in 2016. He browsed quickly through his memories before answering.

_ None that I know of. She had one with Doctor Sharon's husband, and married a patient. Did not end well." he added as an after though.

But what has that anything to do with... anything?

Seriously, count on Sam to pick up interest in the least relevant thing sometimes.

_ Just...

He looked even more discomfited than before.

_ Spill it Sam!

Sam shook his head slightly, lips pursed, unseeing. And how Dean hated it, when his brother did not pay attention to him.

He looked Sam grow agitated, fiddle with the strap of his bag, to finally put it back on his bed and look up to him. Dean did not like that look either, the 'I made a decision, I know you won't like it, I don't care'.

_ I'll go extend our stay for another night, and I'll need your car key.

_ And why the fuck I should give you my Baby's key? You are so _not_ gonnat go back there!

His voice has deepened on the last sentence. But Sam did not cower, or back off, he was calm now, too calm.

_ I have to, Dean.

_ Why? The fucker has flown away ages ago now." Dean did not understand him, and he did not like not understand things, thus he was slowly but surely growing angry.

_ Something don't... fit. I don't know how to explain, but I have to talk to him.

Dean huffed, clearly annoyed and stalked to his Sasquatch of a brother. What was he even thinking he was doing? Was he even _thinking_? They had agreed that the best thing to do was get the fuck outta here ASAP.

_ No." it dropped like a stone in a pond. And sank to the bottom. Sam shifted his weight, drew a hand through his hair, his gaze darting to the side, searching for a way to convince Dean. Too bad, there was none.

Sam blew a long steeling breath; his shoulders sagged a bit when he let his hand drop at his side.

_ Listen Dean, I know that you don't like what I am, that you are still mad at me for Ruby, Lilith and freeing Lucifer." He was rushing through his words, like tearing a Band-Aid. "And I know it will be a long time before you even start to trust me again, _if_ you ever will. But, please, just on this one, just once,... Just, give me the benefit of the doubt. I just want to... I need to ask him something. Just one question and I come back. And if he isn't there, I promise I won't track him down this time. But, I have to at least try.

Dean should be angry, he knew that somehow, he should be angry. Damn he _was_ angry! Before Sam punched him in the guts with his little speech and his pleading eyes. How could he? How _dare_ he say such things with that innocent, earnest face. Such cruel things without a flinch.

As if it was _normal_ to tell your brother, who fucking _raised_ you, that they did not like you!

How could Sam even _think_ Dean had given up on him?

He gave the key, because there was nothing else he could do right now, he was barely able to think, shell shocked. Could just listen, the squeak of the door of the room, the creak of Baby's door, open then quietly slammed shut, the roar of Baby's engine.

The car was already halfway through the parking lot when Dean managed to move, almost unhinging the door in his hurry.

_ Sam ! Sam ! Dammit ! SAMMY!

He rushed after the car, stopped in the driveway. Sam had lowered the window but had no intention to let go of the wheel.

_ I am coming with you.

_ This is not a good idea Dean. I need to _talk_ to him, and you and him, you get too easily on each other nerves. It would only end in more angry words between you both and no answer.

_ I do remember that you were pretty pissed too.

_ I _was,_ I cooled down. Besides, I have spent enough time studying him to know how he works... Mostly.

And with that, he took off. Letting, once again, Dean behind, lost.

It was when Dean realized that he did not get his brother. That he probably had never really got Sam. Oh, he _knew_ him, as if he had made him, he knew what made him tick, all his buttons. He knew _how_ Sam reacted in about any circumstances. But he did not _get_ him, never entirely understood the _whys._

He slowly went back to the steps leading to their motel room. Not getting the courage to climb those three steps, he sat there, his head swirling with more and more questions.

Sam would answer these, any of them. Dean will tie him up if needed, and he would be damned if he released his little brother before he was satisfied with the answers.

_ Fuck, Sammy, just come back already!


	2. Chapter 2 - Elle danse seule

**Elle danse seule - Axel Red**

(She dances alone)

* * *

Arms crossed over the wheel, a slight frown creasing his forehead, Sam was debating with himself. Should he really go? Either Gabriel has taken his leave as soon as he could, and the whole trip was pointless, or he was still in there, still pissed, and then...

God knows what would happen if the archangel decided to pick on Sam alone. Or maybe not even God since he did not seem to care much about anything. Not since the last few millennia at least.

Sam shook his head, he has already gone that far, would be stupid to go back now. Anyway, Dean would bite his head off when he'll be back, better make it worth. He pocketed the Impala's key and exited the car, heading resolutely toward the side door they had used earlier. Days ago, more accurately.

He couldn't say what he was really expecting, most probably an empty place, maybe even trashed a bit by some heavenly wrath. But he sure did not expect to find Gabriel still where they left him, in the middle of a burnt circle, sitting his knees drawn under his shin, drenched under the still pouring sprinkler system. Sam idly wondered if his (supposedly three pairs of) wings were wrapped around him too.

He looked like a lost child.

And so small for a being with the power to wreak havoc on the world.

But wasn't it what it had been about the whole time? A father who let his children fight until the breaking point, then bailed. Let his youngest deal with the crap he couldn't even feel bothered with.

It reminded Sam of his fights with his father. How many times has he been so riled up against Dad that he forgot that Dean was there too, powerless and hurt?

It also reminded him of the time he ran away, when he couldn't take it anymore. the look Dean had when he found him after two weeks of restless search.

A bitter, ugly, laugh drew him out of his thoughts. Gabriel was glaring at him.

_ Am I really that pitiful?

His was once again wielding that fake, high pitched, snarky "full trickster" voice. Sam idly reflected that he liked Gabriel voice much better. That one was grating.

_ You are wrong, this is not pity, this is understanding." His own voice came out gentler than he intended.

Gabriel huffed, rolled his eyes in a 'do not pretend you can understand me, you are a lowly human, I am a friggin archangel' way then glared a little more at Sam, suspicion etched on his hunch.

_ Why are you here?" He looked purposefully above Sam shoulder. "Why is your brother not?

Sam decided that Gabriel not immediately handing him his ass and asking questions that needed more than a yes/no as answer was enough of an invitation to step in an come closer. Some when, the water had stopped pouring.

_ I have something to ask you. And Dean...

Sam pondered that answer a bit. How to phrase it?

_ Dean is on edge, having to bear with his freak of a brother, having no idea how to deal with the mess we brought upon ourselves, _I_ brought upon the world... it makes him a bit volatile.

_ And you don't?

_ I need that answer." Was the simple one he gave the angel before him whilst seating cross leg in front of him. Just close enough that if they both bent forward, hands extended before them, they might brush.

Gabriel glare has still not subsided.

_ If your questions have anything to do with my brothers or the Apocalypse, you are wasting our time. Because the only answer you'll get would be to shove it up your ass.

His voice was unusually low, threatening. But Sam only smirked in return. _I was under the illusion that you would rather shove something else up my ass._

He didn't know if it was the smirk or if Gabriel has picked-up on his though but the glare did turn into something more intrigued.

_ I have only one question. And it does concern your brothers. But has very little to do with the Apocalypse. I think...

He had had tens of questions he would want to ask the archangel, but on the way, his mind had settled onto one. One that was quite unexpected in fact, even for himself. The trick would be to phrase it right and not antagonize further the only being that might be strong enought to help.

Sam heaved a breath then dived.

_ I have always believed. As far as I can remember, I have always believed in God. In his angels. And I prayed, every day, for all those years.

His eyes were fixated on his hands, crossed over his ankles, his voice barely above a whisper. Still, he could feel, hear, Gabriel shuffle. He was probably wondering where Sam was getting.

_ When Dean came back from Hell, at first we didn't know how he did, what could possibly want him out of the pit. All the crossroad demons I met had always be pretty adamant: Dean was exactly where they wanted him and they wouldn't let go of his soul. When Dean told me about Castiel, I was... thrilled I guess. Angels were no longer a vague concept, a belief, it was becoming real. An actual angel had given me my brother back.

"Not that I deserved it." He added sadly thinking back to what he bad been doing while Dean was away.

"Couldn't have been more wrong, Castiel had no intention to let us reunite. Nor had he heard my prayers. They had their own agenda.

Sam finally looked back at Gabriel. The archangel had changed position to mirror Sam's and was surprisingly listening with attention at his pitiful story.

_The first time we met, he greeted me with "Sam Winchester, the boy with demon blood". That was all I was to him : the last one of Azazel children, the boy with the demon blood. That is what I am for them all : an abomination.

"Even now. Now that Dean, the Righteous Man, managed to convince Castiel to follow his lead, that Heaven plans were a load of crap. Hell, Cass got literally exploded by Raphael to help Dean get to me and try to warn me that Lilith _was_ the last seal before it was too late.

"Your baby brother can barely stand to look at me.

Sam speech drew to a stop, he had never really let his thoughts wander down that road and the depth of his hurt was a bit frightening, somehow.

_ Sam, what is your question?

Gabriel voice was soft, like when he admitted who he was, about an hour ago. So were his eyes now. Strange golden eyes, circled with a ring of maple syrup. No, something darker, maybe Pine honey. They were beautiful.

Gabriel smiled. A sweet sad smile.

_ Thanks.

This time, Sam was certain Gabriel _had_ pick-up on his thoughts. He took a deep breath, stalling. Then released it.

_ How does it look like? The taint on my soul due to the demon blood in my veins. How ugly is it, for that each and every angel I ever met can't help but look at me with disgust? Except you.

He had even managed to disgust his own brother... Sam had to clutch his hands together to hide their trembling. His throat hurt a bit and his eyes stung. But damn if he would let himself crumble there, on the wet cold concrete floor of an abandoned warehouse.

Gabriel looked at him for a long time. Kind of reminding Sam of the way Cass kept on staring at Dean. But when Gabriel finally spoke, it was not to answer, he handed Sam a question of his own.

_ Do you really think that your brother sees you as a monster?

Sam shot him a small strained smile.

_ I don't think he does, I know it. He told me himself. He started to look at me as a freak ever since I told him about the prophetic dreams.

_ Come on Sammy. _I_ have been at the receiving end of those puppy eyes of yours. There is no way your brother could have told you so without drowning you in apologies just after.

_ Because this is not his MO; to tell me to my face, he jabs at me, bickers... And he left a voicemail.

_ What!? When?

Gabriel went from smirking to thundering so fast that Sam had to blink. Twice. Why get so mad about it? Mystery... It wasn't about his family after all. The angel's eyes darkened, reminding Sam he really waited for an answer.

Sam gingerly picked his phone from his pocket, holding it as if it might explode between his fingers. Well, it had, tilting his whole inner-world sideways, and destroying the outside one in its wake.

_ It was some when between the moment Castiel opened the panic room, just after the worst of my forced detox was over, but when I was still craving for _it_ like mad and when I totally lost it and made a bee line to Lilith.

He fiddled with the phone setting the recorded voicemail to be played. Again.

_ Just after I was back to high, I felt ashamed, that I fell back so readily. I had let Dean down once again, after he tried so hard not to give up on me. Not yet. I wanted to call him, to apologize and tell him that Ruby had finally spilled the bean on Lilith whereabouts, and that we could go after her together. That is, if he was still willing. That I would lock myself back, to get rid of the demon blood in my system once again. If he would take me back.

He couldn't put any passion into that speech, he felt too much. So it fell from his lips as dispassionate and monotonous as a biology lecture. Somehow, that lessened how it hurt to Sam ears.

_ Instead, I got that message.

He put the phone on speaker, right between them and pressed the play button. His eyes glued to the device, he muttered the words in sync. He didn't even need to hear; he couldn't anyway, under the rush of blood in his ears. Weeks later it was still as painful as the first time, still as true.

When it was finally over, his knuckles were white and his whole body was trembling. Now it was Sam who wanted to draw his knees to his chest and curl in a tight ball.

He wanted to come back to when he was five and Dean would hug him tight and chase away the bad dream. But he was twenty-six, the bad dreams had come true, and Dean wouldn't touch him with a three feet long pole.

_Sam.

This time, Gabriel had a strange, startled edge. Oddly strained. Sam groaned inwardly, what's with him and the guy's voice? Seriously.

Well... he knew a coping method when thrown into his face, wouldn't he? focus on the small, irrelevant details to avoid the big, hurtful ones.

_ Sam!" This time he looked up, Gabriel's eyes were burning holes into his skull. "You need to talk with your brother about that message.

He shook so bad that his teeth rattled. No way! It was already bad enough to hear it, he wouldn't, he couldn't bear with seeing the disgusted face of his brother when addressing the subject. Not that Dean would let him.

_ There is no point Gabriel." The name sounded oddly smooth on his tongue, soothing. "I know he meant it, I know that he still does. It was not long after _that_ he freaked out and told me we would be better apart, when I learnt and told him about being Lucifer 'true vessel', then changed his mind and called me back. Because he was afraid of what I would do if on my own.

_ It was not a suggestion Sam. You _will_ talk with your brother about it, period.

This time Gabriel was clearly mad at him. Again. Sam drew into himself a bit more. Great Sammy! You mind to remind me why you're here? Except for burning the last bridge with the only feathers that don't despises you for what you are but for what you've done? He drew a shaking hand through his hair, gripping at them, his head about to explode.

Was there something, _anything_ , that he could _not_ screw up? At this rate he would manage to fumble with tying his shoes.

In fact there was one thing he had to do, just one: clean up his mess. Was not allowed to mess up that one. He had to find a way to neutralize Lucifer. He had set the Devil free, no one else. It should be up to him to fix it, no matter what. He...

_ Stop it!

The order had cracked through the warehouse like thunder. Startling Sam out of his rambling thoughts, making him freeze on track. In fact, it was still ringing in his ears. Well... no wonder Gabriel first tittle was "The Messenger of God".

_ Sam, breathe.

It was much gentler, but somehow, Sam felt compelled to obey. He breathed, deeply, several times, letting his near panic attack wash away.

How could he be so weak? It was shaming.

_ Sam. I will tell it once, not twice: you do not _dare_ go back down that road! Ever! You came back here because you saw something. This is what is important. Besides, I do not despise you. I thought I have already been clear enough about that.

There was something intense about Gabriel stance, his gaze locked on Sam's. What Sam was seeing, right now was that when he and Dean had come a few days ago, they had forgotten something, they had got it the wrong way.

You don't demand things from a Pagan God, not even ask. You pray to them, and hope beyond hope that they will listen, and maybe, _maybe_ , bother with an answer to your prayers. It was all the more true with an Archangel of the Lord.

_Even one who faked his own death to pose as a Pagan God. Castiel has spoiled Dean way too much." Gabriel commented offhandedly.

Well, at least there was one thing they agreed on.

_ Do you understand why he let you out. Knowing where it would lead?

Sam massaged his temples for a moment before answering. He has not come to talk about that, bad memories. He just had one question to ask, and still had no answer to that. On the other hand, knowing the Trickster the way he did, he suspected that those questions had a point, somewhere. There was always a reason behind his actions. He just couldn't see it.

Guess if it was the way Gabriel had decided he would help, Sam would have to suck it up and see where it would lead him. Sam was good at that.

The sudden warmth in those catching golden eyes convinced that it might be the right decision.

_ I don't really know. It was before Dean had managed, again, to convince him that there should be another way. So, I would say: because he was ordered to; because after his brainwash, he thought it was the right thing to do.

Obviously, It was not the right answer. The short blonde's expression told so quite clearly.

_ The start was good. The conclusion... less. Cassie _did_ express his doubts to your brother long ago after all. And he does have quite a history as trouble-maker.

_ So, he what? Did not see any better way until Dean thrusted it to his face?

_ Sam, we won't be able to go anywhere if you don't realize that Castiel, Luci, me: we are not human. To you we look, speak, and mostly act as if we were. But we are as different from you as you are from a spider.

Sam glared. He knew that, thanks!

_ You know but you don't see.

OK. That sounded like the scolding from a teacher to a student who did not pay attention. Bringing up the scholar he had mostly buried when returning to the road, he remembered a teacher in Stanford: in the court, the point is not to provide the right answers, but to ask the right question. If the question is correctly phrased, the answer will be obvious, undebatable.

So what was the question there? Different...

Different in what?

_ Free will.

But it did not make much sense. Sam had seen Castiel make his own decisions, Gabriel himself had had to make quite a few since he has lived on his own for so long.

_ That is the problem with translation. Sometimes the real meaning gets lost.

To Sam, at the moment it was Gabriel who seemed lost. Somewhere in his past maybe. He sighted before speaking up again.

_ Words are important. They are the essence of everything. Words are what shape an idea into a reality.

_ The Cabbale say that God created the Universe with words.

Gabriel look was nearly comical.

_ Seriously Sasquatch? This is like trying to explain the creation of this Universe the same way parents explain mammal procreation with bees and flowers.

Sam frowned. _This_ universe?

_ It might be oversimplified but it holds some truth." He tried to defend himself weakly.

_ Right, words means the world. How old do you think I am?

_ Older than dirt." Sam shot back immediately, gaining a small laugh from his companion.

_ Meaning?

_ That God created you before the Universe. Before matter existed. So basically, you are nothing material... kind of an idea.

Sam finished with a dubious scrunch of his face and his eyebrows slightly up.

_ Was it a question Sammy boy?

_ I don't know. No." He looked so disgruntled that Gabriel couldn't help but laugh.

_ You really are a sight for a sore eye bucko.

_ Thanks. I guess.

It was quite surprising, how easy things could be with Gabriel, once you started to listen instead of butthead with him.

_ So, you, the angels, are ideas, and the world has been created with words.

Where was that supposed to lead...

_ The real meaning of the gift Father gave mankind.

Sam heaved a sigh, he was glad that Gabriel was willing to help, really, even if he still did not really see the point right now. But all those questions and... stuff was starting to give him a headache.

He massaged his temples, stretched his neck and took a few cleansing breathes the time to collect his thoughts.

Ideas, and words to shape them into reality.

What was the Bible saying about the creation of the Universe already?

_ If... the whole world is a book you and God wrote from cover to cover, then we are screwed.

_ _We_ are. Because we know every possibility, every choice that can be made, every outcome, we cannot stray from those paths. Well to be more specific, it's not all angels but just us, archangels, and a few angels of high rank who are able to see the pattern of the Universe. We are tied and bound because _we know_. For the others angels, like Castiel, it's a bit different. Angels are being of Faith. What they think, what they believe is irrelevant toward Faith. In our Father, in the Host, in The Word. If they lose that faith... They lose themselves.

_ This is why Cass is following Dean's lead like a lost puppy: he lost his faith in his mission and now he's stuck with his faith in Dean's way.

_ You know what Sammich, you should let that snark of yours out more often.

Sam let a laugh escape his lips, and rubbed the back of his neck.

_ With Dean's cheek, it would be explosive. We live in each other pocket, someone has to lay low.

_ It doesn't need to be you.

Sam shrugged. Did it really matter? As long as they managed to function.

_ It won't be enough if you want to rewrite the book Sam. You and Dean have to make up. And if you could convince him to hold a little more respect for _my_ baby brother, I would appreciate.

Deciding that he would not commit himself to that, Sam came back to the main topic.

_ So Archangels can't change a future they already know, and Angels... break if they stray. Only us get to choose our path because we don't _know_ and we are able to choose where we want to put our faith, or have no faith at all.

_ Right on spot kiddo.

_ This is why all those Tuesdays. You were trying to warn me against going after Lilith, but you couldn't have told me directly." He huffed, still crossed about the whole ordeal. "You still could have told us who you were at some point, we might have been more willing to listen.

_ Except for the fact that I am supposed to be dead.

Sam narrowed his eyes at that. It was the second time Gabriel mentioned that. It gave matter to think about.

_ So, since Archangels obviously can't escape the book, proof is your failed attempt to do so, it means that Lucifer is predictable. That is, if we know the book too. No, not 'know'... have an inkling about his part in the book.

_ The Apocalypse has been a bit simplified for your limited human minds but still accurate.

_ You just love to insult us, don't you?" Sam bitched in answer. Gabriel shrugged a playful smile on his lips.

_ Right now, we are a few steps behind, but if we can stall Lucifer, we might gain enough time to find a definite solution.

_ And take care of the Horsemen. Those who have risen don't need Lucy to cause mayhem.

_ Those who have? They aren't all still out yet then. We already got War. War, starving, deceases, they all cause death. So, I'd say the missing piece is Death. The Ultimate End. The question being: what are the conditions to reunite to make the big bad show up? And more important, which one we can tackle down...

Sam was once again thinking out loud. And Gabriel had to admit that, this time, he kind of liked the direction of those ramblings. And since the boy was not really paying attention, that let him time to contemplate his Father exquisite work of art.

The subtle balance between strength and softness, goodness and ruthlessness, the delicate shape of his face and almond eyes and his neandertal-ish forehead, Sam Winchester was beautiful, and brilliant in more than just the scholar way.

_ But first you will have to make me a promise.

Gabriel was startled from his contemplation by the sudden increase in Sam's voice volume. And reflected that maybe he should have payed more attention to his surrounding instead of daydreaming.

Sam had moved forward and was now almost nose to nose with him, shadowing everything that was not this brilliant soul and perfectly imperfect face, moles and all. Sam eyes had gotten a brown hue; his mind was now closed off. His breath ghosting over Gabriel's face, the heat of his large hands pinning Gabriel knees to the ground, were doing all kind of things to his body. He swallowed, tried to find his composure back.

_ Already forgot the rule kiddo? You don't demand things from an archangel, you pray humbly to them.

His own voice sounded weak to his ears. Sam made a noncommittal face. His whole expression, his stance, drew tighter, something had darkened in him, around him. And Gabriel mind froze: even the paths to the future were darkening around them.

_ I am not giving you the choice, not on that.

The low growl of Sam voice was resonating through his ribs.

_ Promise me Gabriel, that you, Messenger of the Lord, will live, and _stay_ alive, at least as long as my soul has not yet settled in its final resting place.

Gabriel could not remember last time someone had surprised him, mind reading an tones of experience with humanity tended to do that. But there? That?

He had not seen it coming.

_ Good. If you are surprised, it means that this is not a road that existed before.

_ Sam... I can't do that!

The boy's expression darkened even more to that, and right now, all archangel and powerful being he was, Gabriel felt trapped. He had no need to breath, but felt breathless before the sheer intensity of those eyes, the stubbornly closed mind of Sam fucking Winchester.

_ I am not giving you the choice Gabriel. You _Will_. Now.

His voice had deepened so low that it send thrills in his lower back.

All he could do was swallow; for some reasons, that bright, blinding soul thrusted just before his eyes made him weak.

It was beyond frightening, he was petrified, he has seen billions of years pass, and it had never happened before.

He promised, dazed.

_ I, Gabriel the Archangel, Messenger of God, swear to you, Samuel John Winchester, that I will live, and stay alive, at least as long as your soul has not yet settled in its final resting place; in Heaven, where it belongs.

If asked, Gabriel wouldn't know why he had added that last part. If asked anything at the moment, he wouldn't be able to answer anyway : Sam had crossed the small remaining distance between them and literally crushed their lips together. Gabriel could taste his blood seeping from his split lip, and even more when Sam's tongue swept in and explored his mouth throughoutly.

Gabriel almost whined when the heat retreated from his lips.

_ Please fuck me.

Then he opened his eyes, wide, when he realized. Then cast them down immediately. How could he loose it so easily? Damn Winchester.

Sneaking a peak to the Sasquatch in front of him, he could see that Sam was blushing, and sported an adorable, embarrassed dimpled smile whilst rubbing the nape of his neck with one hand.

_ Sorry, I didn't think... Never would have pegged you as a bottom though.

_ Trust me, nether would I." Gabriel dared, to try and lighten the mood.

Both of Sam's eyebrows shot up at that one. And gave him an amused half smile. Gabriel still had butterflies in his belly, but at least he was regaining his footing. And the paths were clearing again, still fuzzy though. Or more like a washed out aquarelle, painted on water.

_ Besides, you do realize that it was unnecessary? This was not a demon deal.

_ Was it?

Gabriel stared at that cocky grin, then just a tad lower, to Sam split lip.

_ You little ...!

The kid, all darkness gone to the wind, shot him an apologetic face.

_ I thought it might be worth a shot. You know, do the crazy thing, and hope it might take.

_ And what would be your next crazy move?

_ Try and prevent, or stall at least, the rise of Death. But I'll have to review a few things with Bobby first.

_ Don't waste too much time.

_ Suspected that much.

* * *

Might not be too explicit, but to me Gabriel heard the real voicemail through the phone, _and_ the one Sam hears through his mutters.


	3. Chapter 3 - Crache to venin

**Crache to venin - Téléphone**

(Spill your venom)

* * *

The silence that fell afterward was oddly comfortable, Sam thinking about something, Gabriel gazing at the young man.

_ Like a spoiled fish with a fine wine, an infected wound on one of Victoria's angel perfect body. A jar of mustard shattered over a Renoir.

Sam looked at him startled.

_ The smell of rotten flesh in a bouquet of roses, a river of petrol pouring over the Great Coral Reef. Sandpaper sewn on a velvet dress. It reeks of shame and failure. Our shame. Our failure. You are truly beautiful Sam.

Sam was speechless. But Gabriel went on in the same low tone.

_ Father's last wish was for us to love and care for humanity. To protect you. To let, to _encourage_ , a demon to corrupt the innocent soul of a newborn, several even, since you were not the only one, is the worst thing we could have done. You are beautiful, and the living proof that my siblings chose the worst path when deciding they wanted the Apocalypse more than to follow Father's wish. Lucy has been punished for that.

That last one had a bitter streak.

_ You like him.

Gabriel shot him that comical look of his again.

_ He might be a bag of dicks, but he still is my brother, of course I love him.

Sam shook slowly his head.

_ Dean still loves me, somehow, doesn't mean he likes me now. This is very different.

_ I... don't know. I wonder... There are... circumstances...

He shook a hand, dismissively and urged Sam to move on from that. Sam decided to store it for later.

_ You should go back to your brother Sammy boy, he is waiting for you. He will catch pneumonia if he keeps staying outside much longer.

Sam wavered; he wanted to go back, really.

Maybe.

He wasn't looking forward the discussion he will have to have with Dean. Moreover... He glanced at Gabriel, whose expression softened, probably picking up on his thoughts.

_ Hey, don't mind me kiddo. I'm good.

_ No, you're not.

_ Go back to him. He needs you.

Sam still doubted this, very much. He got up nevertheless, dusting his pants in the move. A snap later, he was all clean and dry.

_ Thanks.

It was becoming slightly awkward, neither knew how to part. Gabriel walked Sam to the door, hands in his jacket's pockets. It was so strange, angels he knew well, pagans he got it _not very complicated, their needs and likings were pretty basics_ but try a relationship with a human was always a new challenge. And this very human was the most beautiful and interesting puzzle he has met.

And was actually shifting nervously whilst fiddling with the car key.

_ Can I... Can I pray to you? You know, keep you updated, get news...

_ Or you can call me.

The kid's flush was sooo endearing. Gabriel popped a card with a number on it, right under his many assumed names and titles, and handed it to the big boy with a flourish. Sam smiled and took it to store in his wallet.

He stayed there, at the door until the sleek black Impala had disappeared from sight.

Sam Winchester, The Boy King, whatever the paths, any path Gabriel had ever visited, was a force to recon with.

And Father he was sooo screwed.

* * *

On the way back, Sam made a brief stop at a coffee shop to bring something warm for Dean, and himself. The sun was near set and the weather much cooler now.

His heart sank a little when he realized Dean was still seated on the stairs just outside their room. He steeled himself; Dean looked worried, and sad. Except that no son of John Winchester had a right to be, sad or worried. So Sam knew, even before stopping the engine that Dean would most likely lash out at him.

Was it necessary to say that he did not look forward to that? Well... he did deserve it though.

Maybe he shouldn't have closed his eyes, albeit briefly, when turning around toward his brother. Maybe he should have thought better than to carry a tray with two scalding hot coffees knowing Dean's likely mood.

But he did, both, and the two caps went flying away when the blonde knocked the cups on his way to cuffing Sam, who ended up with coffee all over his face and the top of his shirt. It burned, but less than the raging anger in Dean's eyes.

_ 'One question I promise', how the fuck could you need one whole fucking afternoon to ask just one question Sam? Tell me! What question needs so much time! How many more times are you gonna fucking walk away from me and let me hang behind? Sam?

Sam raised his hands a little, trying to placate his brother but only managed to get pushed back into the Impala once more.

_ Dean..." This time he aimed to his brother's own hands, maybe try to pry them off his shirt. But his first thought was how cold they were. "Dean, we should get inside; you are freezing.

_ And whose fault, hu ?

He still released Sam and stalked to the door, they were already drawing attention anyway. But the bastard was so not off the hook yet. Once inside he gripped onto the back of a chair, a white knuckled grip. He was trembling, and not from cold; anger, relief, pain were mingling inside his guts. He was feeling almost sick.

Finally it was pain who won when Sam shut the door carefully, leaning on it, watching Dean warily.

_ Why, Sam? Why do you always have to run away from me?

He was broken, Hell had shattered him, forty years of screams of raw pain, his and his victim's, were still resonating in his ears. Even awake, they never really stopped. He had been thirty when going to Hell. He still looked like it, but God knows he felt every one of the seventy years he has been through. He even had spent more time in Hell than on earth.

And he came back to what exactly? Except a brother that preferred a damn demon over him. Sometimes he had burned to tell him, to say exactly what those bitches could do, _did_. He just couldn't bring himself to: tell it would have made it way too real. Like bring Hell back on Earth with him.

No way, Hell was good where it was. But it was so hard to keep it together when your only strength kept on bailing on you. And was actually pissed at you.

Oh, how he hated those bitchfaces!

_ I did not run away Dean! I went back to talk to Gabriel, and listen to what he had to say. And it turned out that he has a lot to say, provided _someone_ was willing enough to _listen_. And the last two times, it was _you_ who did not want to have anything to do with me!

_ What last two? Sam? Don't you dare!

_ Because you never said that we were better apart? You know, when I called you just after I learned, from _Lucifer invading my dreams_ , that I was supposed to _be The Devil's vessel_. Or when you said that the next time you'll see the "bloodsucking monster" that is no longer your brother you will hunt him down?

Dean paled, his stomach did a flip. What was Sam friggin' talking about again?

_ I have never...

A low growl cut him out.

Sam was beyond pissed now, and Dean could clearly see his muscular body trembling with tension and restrain. He had never seen his little brother this angry outside of a hunt and it scared him.

He watched with rapt fascination as one big hand fished a phone out of a pocket and set it up before tossing it to him. He caught it by sheer force of habit. Looking down at the device he saw a circle with an arrow inside.

He looked up to Sam, searching for cue about what he was talking about. His brother wasn't even looking at him. His eyes were fixated on the phone. Surprisingly, there was not anger in them, even if someone who didn't know Sam as well as him would have been fooled. It was dread.

Dean pressed the play button.

And almost dropped it with disgust as his own voice, coming out of the speaker ripped through his heart.

How...? When did it happen...? How come?...

He kept looking at the... thing with horror long after it stopped playing. It was like watching a car wreck in live, it was awful, but you just couldn't avert your eyes.

When he finally managed to look up to Sam, his brother looked defeated.

_ Sam... " He whisper-croaked." I... never... When?...

Sam hasn't moved from the door he was leaning on, his eyes never leaving the... thing. Dean threw it on the bed. It bounced once and ended somewhere on the floor with a satisfying noise. Good riddance! When his wayward brother finally spoke, it was in the softest voice, barely above a whisper.

_ When... _someone_ opened the panic room, I was... bad Dean, real bad. It hurt so much, the only thing I could think was to make it better. I was nothing more than a junky searching for a fix. After getting my shot and my mind back, Ruby finally gave me some useful intel on how to find Lilith... I wanted... Well... I had doubts about the method to find her. I tried to call you. I wanted to tell you for Lilith, and see... if there was a chance, even a small one, that you might, forgive me.

"I never got as far as to call your number. Not after...

Unable to say it, he just nodded toward the bed.

Dean sat, he had to seat; his legs were giving away. He raised a helpless look toward his brother, it was too much. It was so awful.

_ Fuck Sammy...

He tried to raise his arms to reach to him but it seemed and insurmountable gap to close right now. But Sam picked on his aborted motion and knelt before him, took his hands in his giant paws. He just held them, over Dean's knees.

_ I take it you never heard that before. Nor said it. Did you even call?" He said so softly, as if too much noise would shatter them.

_ I did call, and leave a message. But not _that_. When Zach had me locked up in that weird angel place just after you left." He halted. Then, with more heat; "The bastard! Next time I see him, I'm not only going to gank him, I'll fucking skin him.

He could feel Sam hands squeeze his briefly before withdrawing, he felt cold, until Sam cupped his face with them, made him look up into his earnest eyes, light brown. It was almost an unconscious game by now, guess Sammy's eyes color.

_ You will not, Dean. Zachariah isn't worth it. And if you start to skin every angel who did us wrong...

There was sorrow, and the name of Castiel hanging between them, unspoken.

_ He changed Sam. Cass is with us.

_ With you.

_ With _us_ then." Dean insisted stubbornly.

Sam shrugged, his thumbs were still weeping his brother's cheeks, and eyelids, and nose. It was a wonder how much of his face those hands could cover, it was comforting, and warm.

As warm and comforting as the silence between them. They both needed time to put things back in order, count the wounds that had come directly from that major blow in their relationship.

Sam did not bail on Dean to go his merry way with that bitch demon. He had doubted her and wanted to come back.

Dean had still be willing to take Sam back despite his relapse. Had never ceased to try and save him.

_ I get why you ran to her skirt when in withdrawal. But, what I still don't get is: why did you let her lead you down that slope in the first place?

It was tentative; Dean tried not to sound accusing: he wanted to understand, not hurt his little brother any more. He get it now, Sam had not lash out because he was pissed, but because he was wounded, and cornered.

Sam took a breath, and exhaled slowly.

_ Because I couldn't let you down there and do nothing Dean. It was my fault you made that deal, I got myself killed out of sheer carelessness. I let an enemy live. Worse, I turn my back on him! And even if it had not been my fault," he cut his brother attempt at denying him, "How could I have let you rot in Hell forever and just do nothing. Dean?

" After you died, I drank myself half dead, and tried to summon every crossroad demon that would answer. I wanted a deal, to trade place... I ... didn't care about anything anymore. Not after having to put your insides back where they belonged and bury you.

"But none of them agreed to anything, not even after I killed a few of them. They were just saying that they had you exactly where they wanted you to be. I was half dead, out of options, Dean. And Ruby was the only one willing to help, or at least pretending to. So I decided to use her.

He frowned at his brother disbelieving face. Dean didn't have to say it, that he thought that _Sam_ had been used.

_ Dean. I knew where I was going. Cass was just... quicker than me.

This time Dean blanched. His jaw working as he was processing the information.

_ You... drank her blood because you _wanted_ to become a demon?!" He gritted through his teeth, dangerously low.

Sam carded a hand through his hair and agreed with a sheepish half-smile.

_ It was the only way to reach you. Then you were back, all buddy with your little angel, and disgusted with what I have become. The only thing I had left was ganking the bitch who got you.

It was now Dean who reached toward his brother and clung to him, hard.

_ You shouldn't have. You know, you shouldn't. I didn't bring you back for that.

Sam huffed, sadly.

_ You really think you are the only one who can't let go?

_ You did leave. Twice.

Dean disentangled himself from his baby brother to hold him at arm's length, grumpy and as accusing as he could muster when this emotionally drained. Sam let his gaze drop.

_ I am not gonna apologize for that Dean. This was different.

_ Was it?

_ Yes Dean, there is a huge difference between you dead, tortured in Hell, and you alive, hunting with dad, not being constantly reminded to "watch out for Sammy".

_ Sam you do realize that he never needed to tell me. I would have, anyway. Always will.

Sam closed his eyes briefly at that, it was so soothing to hear, the deep concern in his big brother's voice. Had been so long.

_ You do realize that he never meant it the way you took it?

_ What do you mean?

Sam shifted, he was still kneeling on the floor before his sibling, and after his afternoon crossed legged with Gabriel, he was starting to get cramps.

_ I didn't realize it at the time. Only when I asked you the same myself. Dad, he has known about what Azazel has done to me for a long time. And probably how things has ended for the previous generations of 'psychic kids'. He did not only ask you to take care of me, but also to be careful around me, because there was no telling when the demon blood would start to turn me evil.

"I am pretty sure this is also the reason why he was so intent in training you, to try and make you tougher, and tried to keep me away from training and everything supernatural as long as possible.

Whilst talking, Sam had taken Dean's hands back, playing idly with his knuckles, weighting them. He had always made a point not letting those things out, mainly because Dean ran away from chick-flick like a skittish dear from a lion, but also because he knew that there was too much behind his mind's doors, once started, he might not be able to stop. And it will hurt. Both of them.

_ He wanted you to not only to be able to fend off the evil lurking outside, but also the evil that might arise inside. Me.

_Stop it. Please Sam stop it.

Dean could almost literally feel his heart being torn apart. It was all so wrong. Sam was baby dearest, and Dean was the necessary sacrifice, the grunt their father needed to protect Sammy when Dad was not there. One of them had to be loved. Sam had to be, couldn't he see that?

Otherwise, nothing would make any sense. No sacrifice would make any sense if Sam kept on thinking he was _distrusted_ by their own father.

_I was so mad at him. For what he was doing to you, even if it was to protect us. I still do." His voice has soften again to barely above a whisper, they were so close that it didn't need to be more anyway. "You are one of the kindest and most caring people I ever met Dean. Can't you understand? Can't you see that? It was killing me to see Dad try to stamp that from you, and you letting him. Because of me, because you had to 'watch out for Sammy'. God I hate that one!

"He was flaying you alive and you just couldn't have enough. Fuck Dean, you still are. Even after he is gone, you are still trying to be his brave little soldier when you are much more than that.

"I know you Dean. _You_ raised me. You _are_ much more than that." He added as he felt his brother head shake in denial against his own.

_ I have to protect you. Sam, you are everything I have. I _have_ to!" There was despair in his voice, his expression, how could he make his little brother understand that?

_ Hell of a job you did those past few years." Sam answered with a wry smile.

It was like a slap on the face for Dean who reared back, hurt and disbelieving. He wanted to stand, to get away from Sam. He wanted to punch something. But Sam's grip on his hands had tightened. So he resorted to yelling. Well half yelling, half growling.

_ Do you think I don't know that!? How much I failed you! That I...

He was cut out when Sam wrapped his arms around his shoulders and drew him in, tucking Dean's head under his shin.

_ Shhh... I did not mean to blame you Dean. But we already had this conversation; we agreed that you had to let me take care of you too. And it didn't stand.

Sam's shirt was strangely wet under his cheek.

_ This is not the ways things work Sam, I am the elder brother, this is my job, not yours!

Dean was trying to get away, but Sam was strong and wouldn't let him. Not without having to pull up a fight. It was strange; he could feel Sam's hair brush his forehead, and the stumble of his shin against his cheek. It was warm and sturdy, and oddly comforting. To be held so tightly by someone who wouldn't let go of him. Sam smelled of coffee.

_ Doesn't matter. Dean, the point is that we can't go on the way we have so far. They drove us apart; they made us hurt each other way too easily. We have to be stronger than that. And you have to let me take care of you, protect you too.

"You are strong, I know you are. But you are also easily wounded, it isn't a fault, that's what keeps us human. Just, let me protect you. I need to be able to do something for you too Dean.

_ I can't Sam. It would mean I failed. That I am not enough. You can't demand that from me.

_ Dean, this is not a demand. I'm not even asking you. I am begging you!

That was not fair, that pleading look was beyond puppy eye.

_ I need to be the one to protect you for once, not the one to hurt you. Again. I... I know trusting me now is quite a stretch but...

_ Shhh... Ok, it's ok. I... I trust you Sam. It's ok.

He took him in, wrapping himself around Sam's shoulders.

Dean could feel his brother chest rise, deeply under his ribs. Then Sam's second arm curled around his lower back, he was now practically sitting on Sam's lap; pressed between the bedside and the stock body before him.

It was only when they both cooled down he realized the weirdness of their position. To be perfectly honest he would have never imagine being in that kind of intimacy with anyone but a soft chick.

Dean was growing antsy, quickly uncomfortable. Better laugh it off, before he did something regrettable.

_ What?

_ Nothing, just... remember those fiction about Supernatural you told me? Those chicks _ I hope it was chicks _ that wrote about us. They would throw a fit if Chuck were to write that one.

He was joking to get away from the emotional stuff Sam was pouring on him. He knew that, and also that he was right, somehow. They couldn't let Hell's bitches and Heaven's dicks go on tossing them around like that. But he needed a break.

A bit startled, Sam had released him and leaned his back on the bed behind him. It was ridiculous, really, the two of them, in a tangle of legs, huddled on the dirty floor in the small space between two crappy motel beds.

On the other hand, Dean's world was falling apart under Sam's pressure, so it was quite fitting, at least he might not have to go too far to retrieve the pieces.

He let his head back, lean on the blanket. He was warm here, comfortable. Didn't want to move nor to talk anymore. And certainly not to listen to Sam.

Well, he shouldn't have asked if he didn't want the answers.

And he still had yet to listen to what Sam could possibly have obtained from Gabriel.

His hand caught the rim of one of their bag, Sam's probably. Eyes closed, he let his finger follow the seams, idly guessing what was inside, carton of salt, a knife, a small round thing,... a large flat thing, with carvings caught his attention: he didn't know that.

It took him some prodding before he figured it out.

_ Sam? Why the fuck you got an Ouija board in your bag?

_ Hu?

Dean didn't know where Sam's mind had wandered, but it was far. And slow to come back.

_ Ow... Erm... Memento.

Dean didn't move but opened his eyes and threw a 'you better explain that' look at his sheepish little brother. But Sam stubbornly kept shut.

_ Just tell me you didn't use it.

_ Just once.

How Dean hated to see that expression on his baby brother face, wistful and hurt and longing.

_ Jess?" He asked as softly as he could.

_ You.

Sam almond shaped eyes, flecked with soft green and a blue hue, were boring holes into his. Fuck! When? Sam was smart enough to know that he couldn't reach him when in Hell. Only the wandering spirits could be called. He knitted his eyebrow, trying to remember, nothing was coming forward.

_ You were in coma Dean, they said you were as good as dead. I couldn't' believe it. I had to be sure.

Ow! Now he understood: the car wreck. But he didn't remember.

_ I don't remember, what happed when I was in coma. You say I answered you?

Sam nodded.

_ You were freaking out, there was a thing hunting you, didn't know what it was.

_ Guess it was a reaper?

_ Probably. We were pretty ignorant then.

_ I wish I remember.

_ Patient out of coma usually don't. And frankly, to watch me and dad fight about you. You have enough of those memories, don't you?

Sam had shifted again, his knee was resting on Dean's side, his heat seeping through the denim and flannel.

_ I already surmised that much, but... I never really got you, did I?

Sam cocked his head, hairs falling slightly on his face. Curious.

_ What do you mean?

_ That you've never let me see your motives, what's happening inside that nerdy noggin of yours before.

_ Because this is scary.

Dean wondered for a moment what was scary: opening up or what was in his head. Probably a bit of both.

_ And, you are as much a nerd as me.

_ Come on...

_ I read books, remember loads of weird stuff and could recite the Constitution by heart. You watch the movies or TV shows made from books, can cite most of them, and create stuff with two pins and some band aid.

With that, he put the EMF-meter Dean had crafted on his lap. He nearly blushed, uncomfortably aware that in between painful truths, Sam had handed him quite a few compliments this evening. And compared him to Mac Giver! He was not used to that, and didn't feel entitled.

_ You should stop with the compliments Sammy, I might think you are flirting.

_ Not gonna happen. In fact, I think you should hear more; and more often. You deserve it and much more.

His face was way too serious for a conversation like that. It reminded him of Castiel, giving him that weird look when asking him if he thought he didn't deserve being saved. He _knew_ he didn't.

_ I'm a monster Sam. Hell... what it's done to me... You have no idea.

_ I don't, and I don't care. You don't know all the things I have done either. It makes us two monsters then. Won't prevent us from giving everything we've got to clean up the mess they wanted us to spill. Besides, I won't get past Zachariah, Raphael, or whoever was giving orders at that time, to have waited on purpose before letting Cass go and get you. They _want_ the Apocalypse.

Dean looked up, first startled then in anger.

_ Don't you dare imply that Cass had willingly let me..." He stopped on his track, no, that was not what Sam was implying. "What do you mean?

_ That if it's in the script, Cass didn't even has the choice, not matter what he felt about it. The same when he opened the panic room. Because he is an angel, not human.

_ I don't get it.

_ It might take some explaining. Let's go grab some dinner, I'll fill you in there.

Dean reluctantly disentangled himself from his brother and stood up. He realized that he was, actually, quite hungry. He dusted his jeans and was looking for his jacket when seeing that Sam was stripping.

_ The Hell dude?

_ Still wet.

Sam had hung the damp shirt and was now shuffling through his clothes to find a cleaner one. It was when Dean saw the red blotch down the neck of his V-shirt, and his face too by the way.

Coffee...

_ Oh crap! Sammy. Those coffees... you're burnt.

Sam raised his eyebrows at him, a bit perplex before tugging down his shirt.

_ Oh, that. Don't mind, it was not that hot.

In fact, it did still sting a bit, but he had had worse.

_ Sorry.

Sam first reaction was to sweat it, but a glance toward Dean's face made him change his mind. That was not just about the coffee. He put a hand on his brother's shoulder and squeezed briefly.

_ It's OK Dean, we'll just have to be more careful.

He was about to pull away and head toward the door when Dean grabbed him by the elbow. Fixing his gaze somewhere around Sam's fourth button like a little boy. But his tone was firm.

_ Can I trust you Sam? Can I trust you not to leave me behind again?

His emerald gaze, when he finally looked up to Sam, was hard, warning. Sam had better not mess up this one.

_ I promise you I won't ever walk away from you, even when you'll ask me too.

_ Low blow Sam." Sam shrugged. "Well, come on, there's a burger waiting with my name on it.

_ Who talked about burgers? There is an Italian around the corner.

_ Sammy, try to stand between me and my burger and I'll bite you!

He answered with a lopsided grin and a raised eyebrow.

_ Careful Dee, your kinks are showing.

_ Nope, not my kink. Seriously who does that anyway?

Sam shuffled a bit, he sooo should have kept shut. Dean's volatile mood soured again.

_ No, no, no, you are not gonna bring up that one _now_!

_ Huh? What?

Sam's nose scrunched up in confusion. What had gotten Dean this time? The disgust on his elder's face was the clue. He had to roll his eyes.

_ For your information Dean, I like my sex a little rough, with a lot of groping and a side of biting. Always have. Besides," he added as an afterthought, "with Ruby I always used a knife. Clean cuts heals easier.

_ Too much information there.

Dean was now blushing and bumped into Sam in his hast to get out of the room, toward the next dinner. No way he was gonna eat salad or pasta tonight. Dean loved burger, Burger was safe.

But, seriously, he'd bet all the mourning widows and distraught witnesses would have peg that giant with soft hazel puppy eyes the fluffy cuddle type. Then he remembered that vampire Sam has beheaded with a razor wire and his bare hand. He should be the one to know: that puppy was particularly scary, and deadly.

_ I only met her once but Jessica didn't look like the kinky type." He regretted his words the instant they passed his lips; that girl, and almost every hook-up Sam had, was a sore subject.

Sam did not answer for a while, they walked in silence half a block, before he started slowly.

_ Jess... she liked to be held tight. Told me once she felt like needing to be grounded, or something.

_ I see.

Sam gave his eyebrows a 'bet you would' raise, didn't need to elaborate. Nor had time, they were there. They ordered to go, Dean's idea. Since it would be awkward to talk about what Gabriel told him in public, Sam had no objection.

* * *

NOTA : I've written up to the 17th chap so far, so enjoy the quick update while it last.

For the pairings: I do love Winchest but in that fic the boys will only go this far, not _that_ far. No Destiel either (really not my thing anyway)

As far as Gabriel is concerned... well he already made his objectives quite clear.


	4. Chapter 4 - Le grand secret

**Le Grand Secret - Indochine**

(The Great Secret)

* * *

Usually, Dean would use the wait to check out the place for hot chicks, it had become quite the habit. He didn't even as much as spare a glance around. Sam was making the order. Himself had found a secure spot, leaning against a counter where the waistress had the cutlery and the usual table dressing ready, near the cashier.

He was... restless, impatient to go back to their room, or maybe nest in Baby backseat. And that waistress that kept coming by... Did she really need to come back three times: for the water, for the napkins, for one more glass, for one single table?

He almost did not see Sam come back and lean on besides him.

Scratch that, he didn't _see_ him, just felt his warmth by his side, pretend to be stretching, or maybe really do it, and casually spread his hand on the counter behind them. The thumb that was now digging in his spine could be accidental, he knew it wasn't.

It was not much, but just enough to calm him down. If only that waistress would stop to circle the counter his side every friggin' time.

To his dismay, Sam smiled at her encouragingly. She puffed up her breasts and batted flirty eyes.

_ Is there something I can do for you?

_ Actually, yes.

Dean wanted to punch him. Was that really the moment? For that sweet smile, that soft caressing voice?

_ In fact, that would be a huge service for every men who end up in the rathole you call a diner : learn to realise when a dude is way out of your league, or clearly not interested and stop floudering your DD cup under their nose. Maybe buy some toys for the lonely nights. It might spare you some... disappointment.

Dean looked up to his brother's soft face with surprise. What has got into him? It had taken Dean quite a while to realise _what_ he was saying in this syrupy voice.

He waited after she left, stomping her heals, to breath softly Sam's way : was it really necessary?

Sam shrugged, she was gratting, then took in Dean slightly bewildered expression.

_ I'm not a nice guy Dee. Just good at pretending.

_ So... you simply decided to stop pretending?

_ Yup. I mean, it didn't help that much so far, afterall.

The big idot flashed him a shameless grin and went to retrieve their order before heading back to the motel.

Dean was starting to consider seriously skipping dinner and questioning to just sleep. The whole thing was starting to get a bit too much to stomach at once. His stomach disagreed noisily, earning a chuckle from his left.

_ Don't be too happy with yourself, it's your fault I didn't even have lunch.

_ According to Cass and the date on that bill, we skipped quite a few in TVland.

_ Don't remind me of that," he retorted grumpily.

It was only when they reached their room that it hit him.

_ Does that mean I will get to hear whatever nasty retort lays behind those infamous bitchfaces?

_ Only when I can get away with it and not risk backfire.

_ Awesome!" HIs face lit up like a kid promised with a treat.

A Sammy that would speak his mind, _that_ was good news. And gonna be so much fun to watch. He opened the bag that had been handed to him: a burger, and...

_ Sam? I think they messed up the orders, I got some salad as side dish.

_ Nope, no mistake. Eat! Some lettuce and carrots won't kill you. And I hold the pie hostage.

The little fucker was slouched on his chair, a chicken salad in front of him, a delicious looking slice of pie in his left hand. And popping fries with his right. So long for the fun.

_ You son of a bitch!

Sam raised an eyebrow at that, has he just insulted their mother?

_ You give me those fries.

_ Eat your burger, it won't stay warm eternally.

Dean ranted and grumbled a bit more, then sat and ate. With a lot of salsa to compensate. He glared all the more when the bitch generously granted him a few fries, then his pie.

_ I hate you." It had no heat nor bite, he just needed to make his point.

_ And I love you, it compensates.

Sam had almost inhaled his dinner and was already browsing something on his laptop. It had been said so casually that it took a few second to register. And Dean nearly chocked on his pie when it did. Then stared for a long minute at his brother's profile; before Sam finally looked him back.

_ You got crumbs on your chin.

Then he closed the laptop and stretched on his chair, revealing his brief's waist band between the trousers and the shirt.

_ Still up to hear what I could learn from Gabriel or sleep first?

_ Go on. Even if you might have to repeat tomorrow.

Sam nodded, leaned forward, his elbows on the rickety table and started his resume. There was not that much really. It had been long because Sam had to mind guess what Gabriel was trying to tell without being able to. The limitations inherent with being an angel that applied to Lucifer too. Gabriel faking his death because he knew his fate was not to survive the apocalypse, so he tried to trick that. His willingness to help, but not go along with half backed plans pulled together on the run. Gabriel insisting that they talked about The Voicemail, and that they focused on getting the Horsemen down soon. Sam half formed idea to prevent the rise of Death.

He kept the "treat Cass better" for later, in case it might still be needed.

At the end of it all, Dean leaned back on the backrest of his chair, mulling over it for a time.

_ You didn't tell me, what was the question you wanted to ask him.

_ It's... personal.

Sam felt very self-conscious under those green eyes scrutiny. It was a subject he didn't wish to broach at the moment.

_ Make out tips personal?

_ Real smooth Dean.

_ Yeah, sorry." He picked a few crumbs on his jeans. "So?

Sam looked up, then his laptop, the clock on the wall, then back to Dean, grimacing in embarrassment. _Have to trust, have to trust_. He finally locked his gaze into his brother's.

_ I wanted to know what Azazel's blood has done to my soul, how it looked like.

Dean's eyes widened, maybe he really should stop asking questions for the evening. Doesn't mean he would.

_ And the answer was?

_ Poison. It's like poison.

_ Does it mean that you're still not safe? It might take over someday?

_ Didn't ask. I promised one question only. But Dean, earlier you made me promise never to leave you behind.

_ Nope ! I stop you there Sammy, no exception, no circumstance.

_ That's not what I wanted to add.

_ Then what?" Dean rubbed tiredly the spot between his eyebrows.

_ If you die on me, I am not gonna bring you back, not even try. I will forget that I ever had a brother.

_ Well... At least that's straightforward.

Dean downed a shot of whiskey to make that one pass, then a second.

_ Been there, done that Dean. I can't do it once more. I can **_not_** loose you again.

It was heart shattering. What had been said was painful enough. But everything behind, what had not been said, it made the lump in Dean's throat come back with a vengeance.

He downed a bottle of beer. It was just too much. He wanted to fall into oblivion, just a few hours of respite. It was almost worse that Sam was watching him drown himself into stupor without bitching about his drinking habits. Not once since Dean came back from Hell.

Sam stood up and headed to the bathroom with a change of clothes, time to go to bed if they wanted to start early and reach Sioux Fall tomorrow. Dean looked at his glass in half disgust, and poured himself a last one before stripping and get under the cover. Screw teeth brushing.

When Sam headed back, he put two bottles water on the bedside.

_ It's a miracle you're not having one massive constant headache. If you start to, remember the recipe is simple: two glass of water for one of alcohol, prevent dehydration." His nose buried in the sour smelling pillow, Dean's hair prickled a bit, as if Sam has reached to fuss with it but renounced at the last second.

Maybe it was just wistful thinking.

_ Good night Dean.

_ 'night too.

But Dean just knew it wouldn't be one. Merely had to hope he wouldn't wake Sam up.

* * *

The heat was stuffing, as always, relentless. There was no wisp of fresh air, never, just the heat and the metallic stench of blood.

Fresh blood, dry blood, thousands of years old blood.

And as many voices, shouting, crying, begging for it to stop. Bodies with a voice but no face. He has never been able to bring himself to look at the faces. But the voices were still haunting him, and the heat, and the rivers of blood. And that voice, sickeningly sweet, that distorted face.

_ Good, very good. You are a fast learner. One of my best. You quite obviously have been well trained. You are made for that, not to be on the rack. Such a shame daddy dearest has escaped before we managed to get you. He would have been so proud to see his teaching finally come to fruition.

Each word a red hot blade plunging through his heart. So he drowned the voice in the screams of the bodies, always more and more bodies. How come so many people had lead such a bad life that they ended down there? How many simply tricked into making a deal?

_ Yes, they deserve to be there, this one there, he has raped his own daughter, that one, she was beating her husband, almost killed him once or twice, they are all monsters, the worst kind : human monster. Now it's pay day for them. You are so good, son.

The voices were louder and louder, the stream of bodies endless, the stench of blood suffocating. It was spinning around him, so fast, he feld dizzy, dropped the knife. Was it a knife?

No more.

He didn't want, no more...

_ You have the choice son, pick up your tools again, or be back on the rack.

In a blink of an eye, he was back, chained, tortured, the cries and shouts were his. He trashed trying to free himself. Their hand were on him, holding him, their mocking voices were calling his name. They wanted revenge on what he had done to them.

He woke up with a start, his face still dripping with cool water.

Sam was hovering over him and had a towel ready to dry him.

_ Sorry Dean, I tried to wake you up, but it only got worse.

_ S'okay." He mumbled sluggishly still caught up in his nightmare, head down.

He could feel the mattress dip when Sam seated himself on his bed, then he was, once again, held in this warm embrace. His head tucked under Sam's shin.

Was it becoming an habit?

It was only then he realized how badly he was shaking. Crap. Why couldn't he hold it together? How more pitiful will he become till the end? He struggled and tried to get out of his baby brother's arm, to no avail.

_ I'm not some Teddy Bear!

_ No, you're not. You are dealing with more crap than anyone alive had to Dean. This is not being weak, this is being battered." His voice was soft and soothing. "You are strong Dean, and I am pretty sure that every monster in North America has learnt that they shouldn't piss you off if they want a quick death. Dean Winchester the monster's boogey man. But recently you have received more blow than you should have to handle on your own. And I wasn't there for you.

He released him just enough to look him in the eyes.

_ I'm here now. Dean, will you let me help? Shield you from further hurt until you recover?

_ It's not your role to baby me Sam.

_ It's not babying anyone, it's taking the roles that fit us most: I take the blow, you retaliate.

_ I am not letting anyone hurt you Sam! Never.

Sam frowned and his grip on Dean's neck tightened.

_ Do you realize that I feel the same for you Dean? _Do you_?

Dean dropped his eyes, yes he did, but...

_ At the moment, I have more left than you. Dean, we won't make it if we don't start to use what we have to the best of their abilities. And we don't have much, besides us, Cass and Bobby.

_ And Gabriel?

_ We will have to prove ourselves to him before he accepts to make a move. You don't boss around a General as easily as a Sergeant.

Dean tried to glare at the implicit jab, but he was too tired for that. Sam took a bottle on the bedside and handed it to Dean with a simple order: drink.

He downed half of it in one long go. Then handed it to his little brother who sipped a few mouthfuls and handed him back.

_ Had enough." He pushed the hand away.

_ You sweat a lot, drink.

He dropped the bottle in Dean's lap before getting up.

When Sam came back from the bathroom, he was giving up trying to dry himself with the towel, the empty bottle had been thrown across the room, near miss from the bin.

He took his turn, freshened himself up, finally brushed his teeth and drank some more. He _was_ dehydrated. Looking at his reflection, he wondered what had gotten him. Darn! He let Sam hug and cuddle him twice, in the same day.

_ Get your shits together boy, there is much to do. Like stop the freaking Apocalypse. Not the time to fall apart.

_ Dean? You drowning? Should I call the plumber?

Dean rolled his eyes and headed back to his bed.

_ What the Hell? Dude!

Sam gave him an unapologetic shrug, Dean's bed sheets spread between two chairs.

_ They were sweaty.

_ And where do you think I am gonna sleep?" He growled and stalked to the beddings to retrieve them. "On the fucking floor?

He had let Sam handle him more than enough for the next few years today. Not gonnat continue.

_ There is still one bed. Not a king, but for a few hours, it will do.

_ Thanks but no thanks! I am so not gonna share a bed with you, we are not ten anymore.

_ You can't sleep in those, he nodded toward the bundle now in Dean's arms, they reeks.

_ Watch me!

As if he had not managed to sleep in worse! Sam was starting to grate him now.

_ Dean Winchester you will drag your perfect ass in my bed right now, or I'll do it myself!

Sam's clear voice boomed authoritatively in the room, stunning Dean into dropping his charge and cringe.

_ Dude ! It's three in the morning; you must have awakened half the motel." He shushed.

It was only when he felt the hem of the bed furthest from the door against his knees that he realized that instinct has taken over his mind and made him obey. Sam's order had sounded so much like dad's.

He frowned.

_ Are you ordering me around Sam?

The little bitch had the audacity to shot him the sweetest smile whilst he opened the bedding for Dean to enter.

_ No, I am just respectfully telling you to come over here. And not tomorrow, I really want to get the time to go back to sleep before dawn.

Given the dry tone of his voice, there were no more hugs in store. It was a start. Dean gave up and slithered in the bed.

Sam was already on his back, hands crossed over his stomach, fully intend to sleep. Dean nested himself on his belly, nose in the remaining pillow, facing away. The bed was at least large enough for them not to touch, unless they move. But Sam was the kind to sleep like a dead man. And Dean doubted he would get much sleep at all.

* * *

Voili voilou.

Next chap, the last bit of chick flick. And Sammy sassing Cass.


	5. Chapter 5 - La vie entre deux valises

**La Vie entre deux valises - La Compagnie Créole**

(A life between two Suitcases)

* * *

Sam must have been really exhausted, because his breath evened very soon. Dean remembered that it had been one of the most difficult things when Sam had left for Stanford: get used to sleep without his snores nearby. He has literally grown up to the sound of his baby brother breath. And their father's when he was there, but it was different.

Dean only payed attention to their father's snores to judge the amount of alcohol he had drunken, and how bad it will be in the morning. Sam, he had carefully listened to his whole life, to make sure he was still alive. Still well.

Dean curled up on his side, feeling shilly now, despite the heat radiating behind him. That was not a good memory, the day Sam stopped breathing.

It had been an afternoon, Sammy, 9 months old, was taking a nap in his crib, and John out to do the grocery, or something. It was a time he hadn't already taken the habit to let them for days.

Dean had been watching some cartoon on TV when Sam has started to make weird noises. He had been annoyed at first. When the noises started again, he had huffed and reluctantly gotten up to see what the drooling/pooping/eating baby was doing. Until he took into his blueish face and struggle.

Annoyance had been immediately replaced with fear. What could he do? Sammy was chocking right there in front of him and Dean didn't know what to do. He didn't even know how to reach dad.

He got into the crib and tried to breath in Sam's lungs, like he had seen once or twice on TV, but it didn't work. He couldn't do it. Dean was panicking, he couldn't let Sammy die.

They already lost mum.

Dad was a mess. The shadow of the man he had been.

What he would become if they lost her baby?

He finally came to the one conclusion: he had to get help from a grown-up. The motel receptionist may help; he was forbidden to get out without dad, but it was an emergency!

This was when he tried to get up and out. He slipped on a toy, and elbowed the baby square in the chest. There had been a horrifying wheezing sound when his lungs expelled what few air they had left.

All blood had drained from Dean's face in horror: had he just killed Sam? Ruined what was left of his family? How to tell dad?

He had ONE job!

Fortunately, after a handful of agonizing seconds, Sam started to breathe again. Minutes after, he had his right colors back.

Dean breathed again too.

It had been a close call. It was also then that Dean has started to watch MD TV shows, since he didn't know how to read well enough. It was also when he took upon the habit to sleep with a hand on the baby's heart. After they became too old to share a bed, he had to settle with keeping an ear on Sam's breathing.

_ Sam?

It had been soft, just loud enough to check if his companion was still awake. When receiving no answer, he turned on his other side, facing Sam, and carefully put his hand on his baby brother's heart.

It had a slow, powerful beat, he could almost hear it. If he concentrated a bit, it was even enough to dim the cries in his head.

In the dark, a smile appeared on Sam's lips.

* * *

Dean slept tight for six hours straight, a first since quite a few years, really.

When he woke up again, the day was long started. Sam hadn't moved, excepted one of his hand: it was now lying on top of Dean's, over Sam's heart.

Curled around his brother's strong arm, his knees digging in his hip, Dean was warm. The good kind of warm, the kind that make you feel like nothing can come and hurt you.

How traitorous.

Sluggishly, one by one, memories of the evening came back to him. Couldn't believe Sam managed to draw him in that major drama chick-flic moment. It seriously was uncalled for; they had more pressing things to deal with. Like the frigging Apocalypse for example.

But for probably the first time in their life, Sam has finally opened up to him. And the amount of hurt, of anger, of sorrow stewing in that big body had taken him down like a wendigo punch in the gut. The mere idea that Sam had lived most of his life with those feelings without showing even a glimpse of it, it spoke volumes about his strength. And his ability to lie.

Dean was a shell of steeled will and scar tissue around a core marshmallow that would put any afternoon TVsoap at shame. Sam, under all his soft demeanor, hide a raging beast clawing at its fluffy cage.

Perfect opposites: the cotton candy wrapped iron shield and the brittle sword sheathed in a sturdy case. An image popped up in his mind: that of a well-known black and white doted disk.

_ Guess it really is long due time I let you grow up. Or that I realize you _have_ grown up. Looks like you won't give me the choice anymore anyway.

He rubbed slightly his thumb on the fabric of Sam's shirt. He remembered mom doing it to soothe him to sleep, in another life.

It was not easy, not only because Dean was wired to take care of his younger brother, but because of those years they spend apart, and that youthful delicate dimpled face of his. Sam was still a child in Dean's mind.

Well, it also had been a long time since he last saw those cute dimples show.

_ Does it make you my yin or something?" he whispered softly.

_ If it's the female part, I decline.

Dean nearly jumped out of his skin and the bed. Then slapped his traitorous brother on the shoulder, hard.

_ Bitch ! How long have you been awake?!

_ One hour, maybe two? And, yes Dean, I'll be your yin, if that's what you want. I'll be anything, except a helpless baby brother.

He was holding Dean's hand and gaze with firm intent. They stayed like that for a moment, before Dean huffed and dropped it.

_ You really are a bitch you know.

_ Yours, so it doesn't really matter.

Dean was already halfway to the bathroom when it hit him. He blushed slightly, will need time to get used to that. Then, a doubt that should have occurred to him long ago came to his mind. He turned back to the bed, a scowl firmly in place.

_ Sam. You did not let Gabriel in, did you?

The eye widening in genuine surprise, quickly followed by a frown, was enough telling.

_ Dude! Of course not!

_ I'm gonna get washed and grab us some breakfast, you pack up?

He did not wait for more answer than the nod he got, and he definitely didn't hear the 'besides apparently t'would be the other way around' muttered behind him. Way too disturbing.

Now alone, Sam decided to start unwinding his stiff muscles with some stretching and exercises. He would pack once showered, after Dean left.

He was actually halfway through his duffle, the weapons bag ready next to the door when he heard a flutter of wing behind him. Strangely enough, he wasn't expecting Castiel. Even if the scowl on the tight-assed angel was no surprise.

_ Samuel Winchester! What have you done?

Sam raised his eyebrows and put the pair of jeans he was folding down; he had seen Castiel in various states of upset, or annoyed at them. But there, he looked either angry or totally freaked out. Or maybe both.

_ You mean besides breaking the world by freeing Lucifer when high on demon blood?" Castiel shuffled at the jab but did not relent. "You will have to be a little more precise, I have been told I tend to screw things up quite a lot lately.

The dark haired angel dipped his chin down, as if protecting his throat, and stared hard at Sam for a few moments. Well, he could take as long as he wanted to reevaluate his view of Sam Winchester for all he cared. Sam resumed his packing.

He had time to fold two jeans and three shirts before Castiel finally spoke, carefully slow.

_ Something happened tonight, something powerful. The whole Host is freaking out and in frenzy. I had to hide a dozen times to come back here.

_ Any idea what got them?

_ It is not certain, but from what I heard it might have something to do with Revelations.

Sam closed toward the trench coated angel to put his bag near the weapons one, then started to pack Dean's. That reminded him of Gabriel's description of the Universe.

_ What is it exactly for your kind? Anything to do with the Book Of Revelations? And why accusing me specifically?

Castiel cocked head was an improvement, at least he was calming down.

_ Something like that, but not quite. And they are searching for you; your head has a price on it.

Sam raised his eyebrows at that. He had been under the impression that Lucifer wouldn't let him die before he gets what he wanted: his vessel consent.

_ They can do many thing to you without killing you Sam.

_ You mean like you did Alistair? Oh, wait, you couldn't, that's why you asked Dean to face his worst nightmare brought on Earth.

Castiel looked down, apologetic.

_ We had no other choice at the moment.

The sadness in his voice calmed Sam down. He was supposed to smoothen the relationship between his brother and Cass, not worsen it. He went on with a much gentler tone.

_ It isn't true, you know it Cass. They told you there was no other choice, and you believed.

The wrenched look he got back was heartbreaking. _They_ were Castiel siblings, and they betrayed him, hurt him. And now had cast him out of his home.

_ Sam, what happened tonight?

It made him perk up. _Tonight_?

_ You sure about the time frame there Cass? Not yesterday evening?

_ What do you mean?

Sam gave him a quick resume of his last encounter with Gabriel.

_ You WHAT?!" Exploded a bewildered Cass when he told him about the promise he had forced the archangel to make.

It could almost be amusing to watch his stony face express strong emotion for once. Almost.

_ But that was yesterday. The Host was quiet until early this morning.

_ I don't know Castiel. Maybe the Higher Ups kept it hushed thinking it would pass, then started the hunt when they realized it was permanent. Did you hear anything about them knowing Gabriel is still alive?

_ No. Where is Dean?

Sam had to roll his eyes. Here we go: now that he had his answers, Cass couldn't bother with him any longer.

It was then that Dean came back to the motel with take-away boxes in his hands and the more relaxed expression Sam had seen on him since his return from Hell.

_ Hi Cass. Any good news?

_ Hello Dean, I am afraid not." He answered almost automatically with a look at Sam, who huffed: he had it, Cass did not care much about 'the boy with demon blood'. Didn't have to make a show of it, really.

The slight furrow of the dark eyebrows might have indicated that Cass had sensed his thoughts, or maybe just his annoyance, but Dean got hit full attention back in asking about the bad news the angel was bearing.

Sam was relieved to realize that his brother still had his priorities: the boxes were now open on the table, Dean seated before some bacon and scrambled eggs. Sam had been granted a fruit salad and pancakes. Plus coffee.

He seated himself whilst Castiel was giving a much kinder rehearsal of the news he had already given. Sam sneaked a strip of bacon from Dean's breakfast and replaced it with some slices of apple, earning a dark-green glare for the trouble. The bacon was crisp and still warm. Delicious.

Dean made a show of viciously eating the apple, making his little brother laugh. And Castiel eyes blink.

_ Dear Father, it can't be..." He started softly before cutting himself.

The Winchesters stopped their banter to ask him, with various degrees of command, what he was meaning. To no avail. On that, Castiel wouldn't respond even to Dean.

Sam, upon seeing Dean reaching his limits tried another angle.

_ Cass, you won't tell us? Or you can't?

_ I... Cannot.

_ Then why didn't you say it right away!" Dean exploded nonetheless, making the angel cringe.

Sam kicked his brother's shin under the table, pretending he was stretching. It earned him a dark glare, and an apology to Castiel.

They finished eating with Sam shooting some random questions at Castiel, about Heaven, the Host, how what Dean had dubbed 'Angel Radio' worked, half curious about how all of this worked, and half to stall the angel. Make him stay for once.

Castiel has looked at him curiously at first, probably trying to decipher Sam's intentions, but answered, albeit shortly.

_ Why do you want to know all that?" He finally brought himself to ask as the brothers were cleaning up the table.

_ Well, when we chose to follow our own path, we made a few enemies out of your siblings. And now, I made enemies out of almost all of them. Better know what we are against. And what you had to give up when you decided to follow Dean.

Oh, he so loved the way that casual tone always made people do a double take when realizing what he was really saying. This time he got two hits with one stone, and it felt good.

He took the bags waiting to be stashed in Baby's trunk and made his exit. Let them both digest that. He had other things to digest too.

But at least, it made some sense to him, how difficult it had been for Castiel to finally choose his path, despite all the doubts he had concerning his siblings ways. Given the ant-like organization of the Host, and the large scale telepathic field of the 'angel radio'; leave that must feel like becoming suddenly deaf, blind and mute all at once. No wonder dissidence was so heavily punished: dividing the Host would be like have one's right hand fight one's left hand.

_ Bull's eye kiddo. Now you understand why they felt they had to cast Luci out.

_ Hello Gabriel. Not already in the Bahamas playing pranks on the douchebags hiding their funds from the tax accountant?

The little buddy shrugged from the roof of the Impala he was sprawled over.

 _And why you couldn't take his side against Michael and Raphael_ , Sam added inwardly.

_ No seriously Gabe, according to Cass, the Host is in uproar after our little stunt from yesterday. You should lay low if you don't want them to find you.

The archangel halted in his candy unwrapping to bat his eyelashes flirty at Sam and cooed.

_ You worry about me Sammish?

_ Isn't it a given?" He answered testily stacking the bags in the trunk.

_ Ow, touchy. Ok, not yet the time to speak about our feelings. Maybe later.

Sam let an impatient sight escape his lips. Gabriel antics tended to make him quite likeable, when he was not killing off his brother, or giving _him_ herpes. But Sam was taking back what he had said; Gabriel just _loved_ dancing around before getting to the point, if there _were_ a point.

_ Oh ! Yes there is. I just came by to deliver the customary Congratulations, even if I told you to make up with your brother, not make _out_ with him. And take my leave. You are right, the Bahamas just sounds wonderful in that time of the year.

_ What? I... We did _not_!

But it was wasted, the lunatic was already gone. Out of exasperation, Sam slammed the trunk shut, just in time for Dean to see it and give him an earful about treating Baby better than that.

Sam almost argued about the number of people Dean treated with less respect than his Baby, but decided against it, baby steps. Baby steps.

_ Cass? You coming with us for a while or go back straight to your search?

The angel tilted his head pensively, seemed like an habit most of his kind shared for a reason.

_ Where are you heading to?

_ Bobby's, discuss how we could avert the rise of Death.

_ Change of plan," Dean piped in. "Looks like Chuck texted us to be at Vermillion ASAP, life or death situation it seems.

_ Well, good we finally stayed here for the night, it's at about half an hour from here. Got the address?" Sam was already climbing the car. "Cass, what about you?

The angel in the dark haired blue eyed vessel wavered.

_ You think Raphael might still have an eye on him and get on your ass if you come near?" Dean asked, with unexpected insight, and not much sensitivity.

_ I.. yes.

_ Ok, see you later, then. Good luck.

Sam nodded and bid Castiel his good bye too, before he whooshed to his task, and Dean seated himself behind the wheel.

* * *

Next time less emotions, and plenty of babies.

If only the guys remembered more often how to smart in the actual show.


	6. Chapter 6 - Le Bal Masqué

**Le Bal Masqué - La Compagnie Créole**

(The Masquerade)

* * *

_ You sure it's there?

_ Yes, that's the adress you gave me.

_ Seems a bit... homey for a life or death situation.

_ Let's see.

They got out of the car, and Dean's warning signals grew a bit highter upon seeing the number of Baby's twin sisters parked in front of the Hotel. Nice thing, nested in a medium large town in the middle of the forest.

At least, Chuck was there, pacing nervously in front of the porch. It was the right place.

_ Hey, what's going on?

It started weird, and became weirder during their conversation with Chuck, until Becky showed up. If that crazy fangirl was there too, madly cooing over Sam, it couldn't bode well for their sanity.

_ Oh... you remembered. You've been thinking about me.

Well if Sam could wipe her ass the way he had with that waitress...

_ Not really, I am just good with names.

Disappointing... She didn't look deterred in the slightest and kept on leering around his brother, shamelessly groping him. Seriously how could he let her do that, it was plain gross.

_ ... gonna want to see it.

_ See what?" His disbelieving tone matching perfectly Sam's. Obviously making the crazy blond even squeal with delight. Oh! he would love to set Gabriel on her ass and watch, with a fresh beer and pop corns.

Some guy called Chuck, who was starting to sweat his discomfort pretty heavily. He apologized to them with profusion before heading inside.

The display of Baby's look alike should have warned him. But how could he have imagined that the crappy books of they even more crappy live would lead to that... thing. A convention?!

Star Trek had conventions; The Lord of The Ring had conventions. Supernatural shouldn't even exist in the first place!

The number of Sam's and Dean's around them was extremely disturbing, even more was some dude disguised as villains like Hookman or worse: Azazel. And he could feel his mood sour each passing minute. He would give them some 'frighten little boy' or 'homoerotic subtext'! In the face, with the Colt, as soon as he gets his hands on the thing. They had no fucking right!

_ Sam, there's nothing for us here; just get the Hell outta this place.

_ Just a couple hours, Dean, I want to ask a few things to Chuck, after he finishes his speech.

It was lame, more than lame; the Prophet couldn't even finish his answers to the questions asked. Dean wanted to feed "Hookman" with his plastic appendix, and the bitch badmouthing Sam infuriated him. She knew nothing! She had no right!

And it didn't really matter that Dean himself would have agree with her only the day before.

_ Do we make him uncomfortable? I hope we make him uncomfortable.

To make it worse, they both mimed how they wanted to end his life. Chuck reddened and spurted a bit before regaining his previous lack of composure. Dean was fed up and called retreat.

_ Let's get out, I've seen a bar.

_ Wait a second.

_ ... There lies an announcement, a-actually. Thanks to a wealthy Scandinavian investor, we're gonna start publishing again.

He needed a drink, now. Sober would be for later. He was about to ask for bourbon when Sam spoke over him and ordered two Irish coffee.

Dean rolled his eyes, but let it roll too. Now was not the time to start a fight with Sam, but Chuck... He was so waiting for the little scum to come here and eat his head off!

The huffing sound startled him at first. He looked around, and found Sam's shoulder shaking. Worried at first glance, he finally realized his brother was actually laughing.

_ Sam? You lost it or what?

And he just did, laughing his ass off, head thrown back, more cheerfully than Dean had seen him for years, maybe the day he had glued his beer bottle. Dean pursed his lips, eyes widening, waiting for his little brother to share the reason of his hilarity.

But the big oaf just kept giggling like a school girl.

_ That's it. You lost it. My little brother has cracked his head. I am so gonna kill Chuck for that.

_ Don't be such a drama. Look.

Sam gave him his phone, opened with a SMS conversation with "Loki".

"Wealthy Scandinavian investor?

"Hmm... Maybe? :D

Followed a picture of toes on a recliner, with a white sand beach and bikini women in the background.

_ You mean that we owe all this... He extended his hands to encompass the hall, filled with bad copies of them. To Ga.. "Loki". He hasn't had enough messing up with us like _yesterday_?

_ Well, it has obviously been planned a while ago.

_ I don't get it. Really, I don't get that guy.

_ It's not a guy for starters, and we don't get Cass most of the time either. Let's go find Chuck, he might be able to tell a bit more about that.

_ Can I shoot him after you finished questioning him?

Sam huffed.

_ Still not in public Dean, and," he made that little nose wrinkling pout, "it's not the time to piss off Raphael.

Dean made an approving nod; that was sensible.

Unfortunately, Chuck proved to be quite elusive.

They finally found their target much later in the evening, in the lobby, around a drink, trying to draw Becky's attention. Who focused on Sam as soon as she saw him, making Dean shudder, he sure wouldn't want that looney look at him like that. He pated his brother shoulder and got out of the line of fire.

_ Chuck, we had a few questions about that wealthy Scandinavian investor and the books about _our_ lives you are planning to publish.

He started low, and almost threatening.

_ We want a share."Sam piped from his left.

_ We what?!

_ Sounds fair, it's our lives after all, and we'll need the money. So 60% of the benefits of every sell, books _and_ whatever goodies you're planning on selling seems fair share. Of course, we'll have a say about the final draft.

Sam had seated himself next to his brother, facing Chuck. And Dean could tell that he was not kidding, he had that look. The pining look that made the suspects they wanted to grill sweat and quiver. Dean didn't like that look, it was reminding him too much of when their father was grilling _him_ about a mistake he had made on a hunt. But it was pretty damn effective.

_ Do... I have a choice?" Chuck looked like he was wishing to be anywhere but there, Becky was literally drooling.

_ Not really," confirmed Sam with a sweet smile, and leaning against his armchair, casually spreading his legs under the table until they met Dean's calf.

And just like that, the pressure disappeared. He spared a glare toward Sam. He was not gonna show dissension in front of the "enemy" but Sam will _hear_ about it.

_ So, now that this is settled, what about that investor? Tell us everything you know. Is it him who organized this masquerade?

Unfortunately, a woman's scream resonated through the hall before Chuck started to answer. The boys, out of habit, were up in a second, already heading toward the ruckus.

Dean felt a bit peeved when he realized it was just a hired actress for some kind of role play game: haunted house to purify. And Chuck had, obviously, used the distraction to disappear.

He turned toward his brother, who had lurked around the cluster a bit longer.

_ What do we do, go?

_ I asked the clerk about the story. It's true. There really was a Leticia Gore who supposedly went mad and killed four boys before committing suicide. The place is known to be haunted.

_ So you want to stay, in case something really happens?" Sam nodded. "You not gonna add that shitty story to your mad men book?

That one earned him an exasperated bitch face. But he did not answer to the tease.

_ Since we are gonna put this on Chuck's bill, you want a twin or two single?

_ You really want to sell our lives to him? I mean, come on Dude, this is all kind of sick.

_ We could tail his ass to make sure he won't write anymore, but that's too much trouble.

_ And it doesn't make you mad?

They were heading toward the car to retrieve their bags, Dean made a face at the sigh of all those fake Baby. The whole thing was making _him_ very mad for sure.

_ I am mad Dean. But honestly, with Lucifer, The Horsemen, the Demons, and now 'Loki' coming into the party; I just don't want to waste my energy caring about it.

Dean mulled over it for a moment, that kind of made sense, he guessed. Didn't mean he liked it though. Especially...

He was glad that the books had stopped before his time in Hell. He didn't want people to know about what he has done there. At least Sam had insisted that they have a say in the publishing.

Thinking about publishing.

_ You think 'Loki' had a reason to organize this? Other that laughing his ass off at our expense?

_ Not a clue.

Sam got both their clothes bags and handed Dean the weapons. He took it with a sigh and looked longingly at the road. What he wouldn't give to be far away from that madness? But if there was a chance a ghost would appear with all of those clueless wannabee... Well they were hunters. That was their kind of thing.

Saving people, hunting things, break the world, the family business.

He should never have dragged Sam back into that mess. Or maybe, like Gabriel told them, they were doomed from the very beginning. Dean thought about his trip in the past, Mary's deal with Azazel. His little brother had been doomed even before he was born. And Dean didn't know how much of his actions were cause of it.

_ So one twin or two single?

Sam's insistent voice startled Dean out of his reverie. Were they already back? Dean looked around, yes they were.

_Dee?" Sam insisted upon his silence.

_ One king.

Sam, and the receptionist, raised both eyebrows. But he said nothing and went on with it, took the extended key and headed toward their room with the bags. Dean whistled at the place, it was a bit, very, old fashioned grandma' style, but pretty big and garnished. The bed was enormous, even in comparison to his gigantic brother. He let himself fall on it: firm but fluffy, so different than the crappy Motel mattress.

_ You do realize that we probably won't have much time to enjoy it.

_ That's why I am enjoying it now." Dean answered shamelessly with an impish grin and bouncing a few times on the bed before stretching on its full length.

Sam couldn't' help but let a fond smile appear at his antics, whilst hanging some clothes in the closet and generally busying himself, with... stuff. Dean didn't really care. He just closed his eyes and let the soft sounds lull him into dozing off.

_ Will you help me clean up the guns?

He didn't even bother with an answer and just waved a dismissive hand in the air. Soon the mattress dipped somewhere far enough and the sounds of metal clinking and the smell of oil filled the place.

_ So... you and Gabriel... you chumming up or something?

_ Why? You jealous?

He could hear the teasing smile on the bitch's face.

_I _mean_ , you've acted pretty odd since your little meeting. Nothing you haven't told me?

_ Not really, he just said that I should speak my mind more often. That's about all.

_ You nearly made Chuck wet his pant there." He chuckled at the memory.

The silence that followed made him open his eyes and raise on one elbow. Sam disturbed look drew lines of worry on his front.

_ Sam?

_ It... made you uncomfortable.

Well... he couldn't deny it.

_ It was still very impressive. And quite awesome, when not directed at me." He added after a pause.

That earned him a wan smile even if Sam didn't look at him, concentrating on his task. No, Sam was avoiding looking at him.

He rolled on his belly and scouted toward his little brother, he seemed so much younger with that uneasy air.

_ Sammy." He snapped his finger just under his nose when the stubborn bitch kept on pretending not to see him. "Stop it. _Now_.

The sudden increase in volume startled Sam and made him fumble with the revolver he was cleaning.

_ I'm sorry. I didn't mean to remind you of _him_. That's why I...

_ Always hide behind your 'gentle giant baby brother' mask.

Sam grimaced but silently agreed. Dean huffed.

_ You shouldn't. Not all the time at least... Not for me.

But Sam clearly did not believe him. Dean got up and took one of the weapons exposed on the towel to occupy his hands.

_ I know you don't have much sympathy left for him. But you know, he hasn't always been like that.

_ Precisely Dean: I don't. I have only ever known him as the asshole he has become after mom died.

And the unspoken words being: he never knew their mother too. And God forbid they mentioned her before John. Or Sam mention her before himself, Dean amended, not without guilt. But where to start?

_ She was singing me "Hey Jude" as lullaby. She used to cut off the crust of my sandwiches. Every day, after school and before homework, she would make me sandwiches and cut off the crust, and when I was sick she made me tomato-rice soup. On Saturdays she would make pies for lunch. Apple pie mostly, sometimes plum and strawberry in summer. Dad loved strawberry the best. Then we would go fishing. Or more like, dad would fish and mom read me stories.

It felt strange to rewind those memories, made them more vivid, the loss too but not as much as he expected.

_ He... he loved us Sam, you would have seen his face when mom told us about being pregnant. After that, every time he went home, he would go straight to mom's to put his hands on her belly and say hello to the baby. Whenever he went early enough, we would go to the backyard and play catch. The only time he got mad at me, enough to scare me, was when I asked if we could call you Harry. That's how I learned about granddad.

Not exactly a good memory though. He put down the gun he had just cleaned and picked another up.

_ We were all so impatient to finally meet you, dad had your room ready long before you were due, he even let me choose some of the furniture and stuffed toys. I have never seen him so happy than the day the nurse put you in his arms. He just kept counting off your fingers on and on, mom just laughed at him.

He only realized he was fumbling and barely seeing what he was doing when a pair of large strong hands covered his. Hairs brushed his cheek when Sam's head went to lean on his side.

_ Thank you, Dean.

He leaned in the soft touch for a few seconds before grabbing Sam's neck and made their eyes meet. Dean put all he had behind the next words, trying to convey how much he meant it.

_ We were loved Sam. You were wanted and loved. You still are. Never forget this, ever!

_ I won't." Sam promised simply.

Dean dropped his gaze, worrying his lips. Ok... now what?

Loud bangs and trashing noises saved him from some very embarrassing situation.

_ Gosty awakened?

_ I doubt the landlord would let his furniture be trashed just for the game.

Sam was already halfway down the corridor when finishing his sentence, Dean in tow. Following the trashing noises, they ended in a library on the floor below. By the time they arrived, the only thing to be seen was a plump teenage boy slumped on the floor, loosely dressed up as a Sam, blood dripping from his nose and broken glass all around.

_ What happened there?

Dean took in the surrounding when Sam went to haul the kid on his feet. A bit groggy, he let himself be handled at first, then tried and weasel his way out of the room, screeching about leaving the Hell outta here.

_ Calm down, and tell us what happened." Sam urged him in a non-nonsense tone. To no avail, the kid was too scared.

_ Go to Hell! This is not the game anymore!

One single of his large hands was enough to sit the boy on a nearby armchair.

_ Trust me kiddo, we know. Now tell us.

The kid frowned, disgruntled.

_ You are far too into this, now let me go.

He tried to swat Sam's hand from his shoulder. _Tried_ was the word. Sam took a tired expression, massaging his temples with his free hand.

_ Ok. He sighted. Let's be honest.

Dean tried to shut him up. Too many people already knew.

_ It's OK Rob, the kid won't tell. You won't tell, right?

The kid nodded under the steady gaze. Dean was bewildered, what the Hell? Then it became a bit clearer.

_ I'm Harry Campbell, and the pouty pretty boy there is Rob. We are Hunters. I mean real life Hunters, Ed's erm.. consultants.

He has the kid hooked up, just like that. And besides the names, it was almost true.

_ You mean you are the real Sam and Dean?

Sam laughed, God he was good. Always knew how to make witness comfortable and spill their guts. Probably those soft eyes of his. For those who'd never seen him pissed.

_ No, not really. Ed' has used some of our encounter with creatures for his books, and a few of our traits for his main roles. But, it's just a story. I mean, no real people could have this much bad luck and all.

_ Not unless they smash as many mirrors as they did in the Bloody Mary case. Did you?

That kid had a sharp tongue when calmed down. Dean laughed at that one.

_ Kid's not wrong on this one. _Harry_.

Sam flashed him a strained smile and went back to his questioning. But the kid had more on his own.

_ You really brothers?

_ We're married." Sam Deadpanned, whilst Dean made chocking noise. "Now, what did you see? From the time you leaved the lobby downstairs.

The kid related them his encounter with the fake Miss Gore, the scary weird child, and his quite messy meeting with the real Miss Gore.

A few minutes later they released the kid, impatient to grab his friend and leave the place.

_ So..." Dean summarized. "One boy's ghost, complaining that Miss Gore don't want to let them 'have fun', and a very mad Miss Grove calling the boy 'Naughty' and throwing him around.

_ Let's not forget that he 'shoot' the fake Miss Grove just before.

_You think it's important?

Sam shrugged. Might Be. Would give the Lady a reason to get mad at him. Looked like they had a few more questions for the clerk. They headed back down the lobby.

_ Dude, I get the lie. Very smooth, by the way. But, you really had to tell him we are _married_?

Sam smiled to himself, he knew he would hear of that.

_ You could have said, I don't know that we are cousins, or something.

_ Cousins sharing a room with a king sized bed?

It was meant to tease. Given the sour face Dean made, he really shouldn't have.

_ Sorry, shouldn't have said it.

Dean just glared and bumped past him on the stairs. He wasn't any BoyKing, he was Sam the ScrewKing. He stifled a sigh and went on. They had a case now, guess he would have to wait the end of it to make it up to Dean. They might have made up, their relationship was still sore.

This time, Sam's glare wasn't enough to make the man open up, after a few bucks changed hands; he revealed that the kids had been seen by some maid a few times, a janitor had seen Miss Gore herself. The slaughter had happened in the attic.

* * *

So, they went to the attic. Dusty, crowded, creepy attic. And, as expected, the EMFmeter was going nuts.

Seriously, he had to know who, Gabriel, Chuck or the crackpot, decided to use a real ghost story for "authenticity". He needed to bash some head for that luminous idea.

_ They couldn't have chosen a ghost story with only one ghost. Had to be five of them. And invite all those fake us to poke at it.

_ Well, we'll have to solve it quickly and make sure it doesn't end too bad.

_ My mommy loves me.

The strange voice was coming from a dark place of the attic; they directed their torch toward it, illuminating a small boy, huddled in a corner as if trying to hide.

_ I said, my mommy loves me.

Sam kneeled as close to him as he dared, all sweet and soothing.

_ I'm sure she does.

_ My mommy loves me this much.

The kid turned his head, revealing a disgusting lack of skin on his right side, making Dean gasp and lower his flashlight briefly. When he regained his composure, the kid was gone.

_ What the hell does that mean?

_ I don't know Dean, but it's worth looking into it I guess.

On their way back, Sam swept his light around one last time.

_ I wonder... what kind of 'fun' were they having in the _attic_.

Dean gave him a disbelieving look, before amending himself. Being raised from Motel to Motel, Sam wouldn't know, would he?

_ Play explorers, or hide and seek for example. And if there's a costumes trunk... No end to the fun Sammy.

Sam payed him a noncommittal face and followed him down the stairs. A phone call later, he confirmed Miss Grove had a kid, the one that had been scalped. Dean felt sick, really: people he didn't get.

_ That's it! I'm gonna deep-fry this bitch extra-crispy.

Strangely, Sam didn't seem too convinced.

_ What you thinking?

_ What you told me earlier. About dad.

_ Then what?

_ He has known for a long time, what I was. What I am. He knew the risk, letting me live. I would have been anyone else; he would probably have killed me from the beginning. He didn't because I was his son.

_ And what is the link?

_ I can't help but wonder what could possibly drive parent to suddenly go so mad they kill their own child, plus three others.

Dean huffed, annoyed, that conversation was way too uncomfortable, and unproductive: they had to find where was the body, no reason to stall. But trust a Winchester to be stubborn.

_ I mean, what if she did not kill _her_ son?

That made him takes a moment to think, try to follow Sam's train of though. If she hadn't killed her son, so the other option was that the other kids had.

_ You think that some game, let's say cowboy and Indians, turned out badly. She went nuts, killed the kids that killed hers and herself as a grand finish?

_ It might.

And, yes, it made some sense; Dean pondered the options.

_ Ok, you go back to the attic, try to make the kid talk, if he's still there. I'll search for the graveyard. One tomb to dig or three, we'll still have to find where they are.

Before parting, they decided that it would be time to ask Chuck to get the civilians in the conference room for whatever reason and discreetly salt the doors when they would know who to burn and where.

Sam went up; back to the dust, Dean down the lobby, with luck the clerk would also have that in store. If not, he would probably have to search the net. What did it take him to assign himself the search part?

Obvious answer: Sam was better than him when it comes to make people talk. Not that he was too good with kids though...

Well, too late to swap anyway.

Maybe for once, luck was on his side: he was going to lose one other fifty dollars when some conversation caught his attention, or more precisely, the word "Cimetary". It was the Laurel&Hardy duet who saluted them weirdly first time they arrived.

And, look at that! The map they had spread on the table was at first glance decades old. He took a corner of it to make sure. The fabric was no paper and thick, faded ink: definitely not prep.

_ Where did you find that?

He did refrain to grab the map from the table without a warning, but he must have screwed up his entry, the two dudes were now looking at him like he was about to abduct their baby.

_ It's called a game pal, not a charity.

If there were no witnesses, no-one could tell Sam he shot a pair of annoying fac-simile, right? Ok, bad idea. He did flash his gun to make his point clear.

_ Not a game, _Dudes_. So now, you will tell me exactly where, and how, you found that.

He made a show of getting comfortable in one of the armchairs and gestured at the two others. Hey, he could make people talk too! And screw diplomacy.

_ Now, talk.

_ You really are way too deep into it. It really is just a game. It is not real.

Seriously? Those two morons really couldn't realize that he was not joking? Two figure hurriedly dragging their bags toward the exit gave him an idea.

He leaned forward, and lowered his voice.

_ A game? _You sure_? Want to ask the boy there," he pointed the kid from earlier, "whether he found it _fun_ to get smashed against the furniture by an angry ghost?" He leaned back in his seat. "Go ask him!

The chuckles looked at each other, a tad unsettled. Even more so when the kid and him friend came toward them.

_ Erm.. Mr. Campbell?

Dean smiled at him, right in time.

_ Call me Rob, Mr. Campbell was my grand-father.

_ Ok, Rob. I... We are leaving.

_ Sound idea if you want my opinion.

The kid shifted a bit, glanced toward the couple sitting with him, and straightened the bag on his shoulders.

_ They are... with you?

_ Nope, but they found the graveyard. So things should be dealt with soon.

_ Good. Thanks and.. good luck, Rob.

_ To you too kiddos. And don't go poking ghosts again!

With a half laugh, the kids agreed to that and took their leave, definitively. Letting Dean turn back toward his task : make the morons talk.

_ So... where were we again?

_ You... what?" Fake-Sam, quite ugly, scrawny Fake-Sam, uttered in astonishment.

Dean, giving up the hope his intimidating play would give him what he needed, stepped into the tale Sam had already given. It got him the full story in no time.

Come on! Most monsters, and some demons, were afraid of their name. Right now, he could almost hear some werewolf howl in laughter at his inability in getting answers from a pair of morons.

He send a message to Sam and went to the car to get the 'salt and burn' bag : shovels, salt, fuel, iron poker. Should be good.

He jumped upon seeing that the creeps had followed him.

_ What? You still there?

_ You really are a Hunter? Like for real, _real_?

_ Yup.

He cut off the forthcoming answer to pick-up his phone.

_ Henry? Got anything?

 __ Henry? The kid still with you?_

_ Nope, but the map-guys are, they volunteered to help dig, just in case." Ignoring royally the volunteers denegations.

_ _Good, we will need hands. The grove child, he confirmed, that was not his mother who killed him._

_ Freaking great, homicidal kids, my favorite. You join us at the front door.

He hung up and turned toward them.

_ Lucky you Dudes, we've got three tombs to dig. So you will get a taste of Sam&Dean real life. See if you like it so much after that. Get a shovel.

* * *

Sorry got the chapters names mixed up.

For information, they all are song Titles.

Next, grave digging and some more 'you think better with two heads'.


	7. Chapter 7 - Fait-divers

**Fait-Divers - Téléphone**

(Petty crimes)

* * *

They picked up Sam, who got Chuck to gather everyone in the main room, on their way to the graveyard. Dean filled him in with their alter-ego's story, how the ghost- kid they encountered led them to the map, hidden behind a frame. Why would someone have the strange idea to do that in the first place? Nobody would know now. But they wouldn't question their luck, would they?

Once Dean almost stumbled over the first kid tombstone, they shared the work : Sam would stand guard first, and the three others would dig.

_ Hope Miss Grove get enough hold on the naughty boys so they won't come to us.

_ Count on that." Dean answered with a vicious dig at the earth. For a reason he didn't get, the guys never stopped 'larping' and hearing private conversations between Sam and him in their mouths was wearing his patience thin. Hopefully the exercise would make them shut the Hell up before he loses it.

Or not. Their stream of luck was bound to end, sooner than later.

_ Shut up! You shut up! _This_ is no game, there is nothing fun in being a hunter, it's just crap that keeps on falling over your head and deal with it. Not a job you can just call a day off because you don't feel like getting up. When you do, people die! Now you shut up and dig!

After that, for a while, the only sounds were labored breath and shuffled dirt. Until he got to the coffin of the first kid. A "woosh", followed by a sizzling sound came to his ears.

_ Sam?

He dug through the molded wood.

_ Looks like we finally got their attention.

It was followed by a crashing noise, Dean use the shovel's handle as leverage to unseal the planks.

_ Need help?

_ No I'm good, keep on Dude." Came the somewhat wheezy answer. "Plus, help might be already there. Or else.

Dean was about to ask about that when a feminine voice made itself heard. "Naughty! Naughty! Naughty!". He chuckled, Sam fighting ghosts alongside another ghost; he'd love to see that. Had no time to though.

A glance at the next tomb made him scramble out of the one he dug and jump in Fake-Sam's.

_ Get the bones out of the grave in pile, I'll finish dig that one.

Poor guy was pasty white and probably at that to puke his guts out. What lack of exercise could do someone. Or maybe the reality has finally caught-up. Didn't really matter, anyway.

Dean kept digging, trying not to give too much attention to the grunts coming from above. The faster he gets to the coffin...

Sam was starting to get dizzy. Laetitia Gore's appearance had calmed the little nightmares down for a time. But she was no match to the threat of being offed. And they had knives. He had just shot the blond who was targeting the "Dean" larper when the one with a cap got a aim at his right arm.

Even ghost knives hurt.

Luckily, the cut wasn't deep enough to incapacitate him. But the shove that send him flying against some tombstone also send sparks in his head, he was blackening out. He dearly hoped Dean and their helps would be done soon. He couldn't keep up for much longer.

The time he recovered enough to try to get back on his feet, the blond was on him, knife poised on his forehead. It was so unfair that ghosts were so strong, no matter the size, his arms were starting to get a cramp. The blood was already starting to drip from his forehead when, suddenly, it was over. The ghosts had vanished.

Sam tried to get up, but stayed seated for a moment to clear his head.

_ Dude, you OK?

Dean was crouching in front of him, assessing his injuries with the ease of habit. It shouldn't.

_ Yep, I'll may need a couple stitches, that's all. Just a bit dizzy.

Shouldn't have said that. Dean's hand went immediately to his head to search for a concussion. He gently swatted it.

_ No head injuries. I'm OK Dean.

He did accept the offered hand to haul him up though.

_ How are you?

He didn't ask Dean, he was obviously fine, a bruise on the jaw. But the two others looked weary. They still gave him positive, albeit subdued, answers.

_ Do you think Miss Gore and her son will just go away now?

As an answer, Dean nodded toward a point behind them. Laetitia Gore and her son were both there. They inclined then vanished. Not the usual teleport thing, but more like Molly, they were passing away.

They packed up the material in silence, letting the guys let what they just experienced sink in. They looked both shaken and awed.

_ Congrat's dudes, you achieved your first salt and burn.

Dean pated them on the shoulder while passing by on his way back to the Hotel. The stroll back was quiet and subdued. Sam sneaked a peek into the great room to check on the gathering. Chuck seemed to fare quite badly but everyone was safe. He nodded to tell him it was all good, at the Prophet's great relief. They parted before the stairs, Dean made a beeline to the shower, clean the dirt.

The aid kit being in the bathroom, Sam fished back his phone and retrieved the mail Gabriel had send him in the morning.

"Sam,

"I don't know how to make you understand, but: Stop trying too hard. You've done it already, didn't end well did it?

"When will you realize that Hell damaged him but did not make him weak? You did, when you started pretending he has nothing to give you anymore.

"He needs you, needs to be a big brother: it's the only thing he has left.

"Remember, he is four years ahead of you. It doesn't mean you will always have to run after his back. It means he has lived things, known people, you didn't, and won't.

"See Ya.

"G

It was blunt, and harsh. Gabriel was not a tactful one, but Sam could understand the concern behind it. And he did give him some good advice. He had never seen Dean wear the expression he had when talking about their mother, the golden days when she was still alive.

He made sure Dean was still under the shower before dialing the number. Gabriel picked-up after the second ring.

_ You do know it is way past curfew Samsquatsh?

_ Long day; had to put a few angry ghosts to sleep.

_ You two ok?

_ Scratches, bumps, nothing serious. T'wasn't why I called.

_ So why then?

_ To say thank you about... you know. Worked better than I thought it would.

_ Well... that's the point, isn't it? I help you with your brother, and you both help me with mine. Plural.

Sam felt a pinch somewhere. He was still mad at Gabriel for the Mystery Spot, but he had liked the time they had spent talking. A billion years old being, willing to talk and share bits and bouts, could have make for lots of interesting evenings.

_ Yeah... something like that.

_ I sounded cold just there, did I?

_ I guess so. I get it, don't need to be friend to work together.

_ You want to be friend with me?" Gabriel's voice was softer, but heavily tinged with something like incredulity.

_ Dunno, t'would be nice to have someone to talk with." He half mumbled, a bit peeved.

Silence...

_ You have your brother." The archangel reminded him hesitantly.

_ Right now, it's not that easy, he still resent me for all that Lilith, Apocalypse, not listening to him thing. We are on the mend but such things take time to heal: there is too much history, sometimes, some things you just can't.

There was, again, only silence at the other end, but Sam knew Gabriel was listening. He huffed a laugh.

_ I learned more about mom today than in twenty-six years.

_ How come?

There was genuine surprise in the angel's tone, at least as far as he could tell.

_ Well, dad never spoke about her, to anyone. Dean caught on that. But sometimes I was able to catch some glances between them, whenever something must have reminded them of her, but I could never ask, or else... Last time I dared say her name, Dean almost punched me in the face. Like she was some sacred ground I was not allowed to cross.

He let his voice drop. Having seated himself by the opened window, he gazed at the sky.

_ Well, I... kind of understand, her death is on me after all.

_ Now you're talking nonsense kiddo! I'll hang up.

_ Wait!

The shout made him freeze, but the shower was still heard.

_ I... don't mean I feel responsible, I was six months old. Or, maybe a little... I mean: to them, I was... I am the reason they lost her. The worst thing being how many times dad berated me for not caring enough about avenging her, not being as obsessed as they were. How was I supposed to? I never knew her... I barely even know what she looked like.

He leaned back his head against the frame, he was glad he finally learned a bit about their mother, but the loss was becoming greater too.

_ Mothers really are something...

_ Where did that come from?

He told Gabriel about the Grove case.

_ Mothers really are scary and incredible, or scarily incredible when it comes to look after their kids." He concluded. Then added: "Dean always tried so hard to step in dad's shoes. Now, when I think about it, I'm pretty sure he's quite like mom. To me at least, he has been more of a mother hen than anything else.

He frowned.

_ Never tell him I said that! Or I won't hear the end of it.

Gabriel laughed. It was nice to hear a non-faked laugh from him. They exchanged a few more words then hung up.

When Sam climbed down the window, he was surprised to find that Dean had left the bathroom and was standing near the drawer, some paper thingy in his hand.

He froze, mind whirling, how much did he hear? Will he get mad? That Sam called Gabriel, about the things he said? His hesitation, the minute step back he made when his brother came forward, must have been seen. There was a new crack on his brother face.

It was only when Dean was a step away Sam realized, it was a picture he had drawn out of his wallet. Silently, he took the extended picture: a beautiful blonde woman with long wavy hair, one arm around an equally blond boy's shoulders, was smiling softly at the camera.

_ She was beautiful.

Dean gave him a half smile: yeah she was, and Sam hasn't seen her when she was in her twenty's.

_ You beast.

His brother just shrugged and leaned against the wall next to him, eyeing the picture too.

_ You remember when it has been taken?

_ Not really, no. But I remember this one.

He handed him a second picture, she was holding a baby, the same young Dean next to them.

_ First picnic with Sammy. Mom had let me help with the salad.

_ Dean eating salad; must be a sight..." Sam half joked.

That earned him a punch in the shoulder that made him wince; he had landed on that shoulder an hour ago.

_ Go get clean, I'll patch you up.

Sam handed him back the pictures.

_ Thanks.

They exchanged uncertain smiles, before Sam headed to the bathroom with a change of clothes.

A quick shower later, he was in pant sweat suit, letting Dean clean the few scratches on his back and sew a gash on his left side. Somehow, it took longer than it should have. Well... Sam wouldn't complain.

While tending to his little brother, Dean was thinking about something quite different, thus slowing down his movements. Sure, Sam has kept things from him, important and dangerous things, that led them to the mess they actually were in.

But somehow, he and dad might have something to do with it. Neither had ever been very forthcoming with... anything... Don't ask, don't tell was almost as much a family moto as the family business.

And there were a few things he hadn't told Sam either. Things that might not shed a great light on themselves, but important things; namely, his trip in the future. He would just have to hope that Sam wouldn't resent him for calling him back because he feared that he would say 'yes' to Lucifer if not under his watch. Sam was touchy that way sometimes.

He came to his decision with the last stitches; got up, craning his neck. The shower had helped but shoveling made his back quite stiff.

_ Sam there is something I have to tell you.

He almost jumped when a large hand landed on his neck. Sam didn't move, didn't say anything. He contented himself with just letting his hand there and wait. For Dean to let him.

Curious, he settled and let Sam do whatever he wanted. His thumb dug softly into Dean's neck, rubbing in slow circles, sending shivers down his spine. The circles grew larger and stronger, down his shoulders. How weird, Sam volunteering for a massage.

Well, at least, he wouldn't have to face him while talking. He let Sam guide him to the chair and seat cowboy like, his arms crossed over the backrest.

He waited after Sam was done moving carefully his head in all direction, craning his neck, tugging a bit to loosen up the spine, before he started to talk: Zachariah coming in his sleep to convince him to say yes, one more time, the future, waking in a Croatoan infested city, the military, Zach, again giving him the outline of the state of the world, Bobby dead.

His future self, hard hearted, obsessed and authoritarian, running his group like a tyrant.

_ Dad would have been proud.

So much bitterness, it made him shiver. And definitely not the powerful hands actually murdering his shoulders, painfully digging into the flesh, elongating the muscles.

He added the way his future-self had no trust, in anyone, killing his own without a blink, torturing without remorse, knowingly sending them into a trap... He did let aside the panties thingy.

Chuck, still there, God knows how he survived, maybe because the Prophet had to be there, to tell the story, till the End. For who to read?, there was no hope for any future there.

He hissed when Sam dug his palm in a thigh knot. If he had any tough about the massage being awkward, they were all gone. Sam wasn't going easy on his back, nor his arms, bending and kneading with strength.

He went back to the story: Sam lost in Detroit. The Colt finally found. His future talking about shooting him without a blink.

And Cass, human, broke down to pieces, feeling useless, drugs and sex addict, but still willing to fight and die for a Dean who didn't even gave a fuck about him, and whom he didn't trust that much any longer. Loyal to a fault, to a cause that didn't have any meaning anymore.

Their trip together, to the final round, the few human still standing with a Colt versus Lucifer wearing his destined meat suit. The angels had bailed, deserted Earth and gave up humanity to Lucifer.

The final showdown, the trap, Cass as bait, to give them a chance to get a shot. His future-self knocking him out to prevent him from interfering, his neck broken with Sam's shoe, Lucifer's shoe. He skipped through the end though. Too painful to delve on.

Toward the end of his tell, Sam has splayed his hand over Dean's shoulder blade, just resting there, warm and strong, comforting trough the fabric of his Tee-shirt. And they stayed there, without a word for a while.

_ You are stupid.

Dean scoffed. So far for the support.

_ You should have told it long before Dean. Maybe not to me if you were too afraid I would resent you for calling me back mostly because you wanted to keep me under your watch and away from Detroit. But at least to Bobby.

Dean's shoulder sagged, unbalancing Saw who had to lean over him to get his setting back. He was well aware of that. Recalling and retelling those three days had him see things he hadn't paid enough attention to before; too caught up with the urge to get his baby brother back.

_ I know that Sam. That's why I'm telling you now: to get a second reading.

_ The most obvious: stay away from Detroit, don't say yes to the Devil, make sure the croatoan infection doesn't start.

Sam started slow and pensive whilst his hand crept up Dean's neck to massage his scalp. God that felt good too. Better not get too used of it or he would get soft.

_ Since it would probably be Pestilence handiwork, it kind of join what G... Loki told me : we need to stop solely focusing on Lucifer and go after the Horsemen as soon as possible.

_ I don't really agree. Better get the big boss down first.

The hands stopped in retaliation, he grunted out of dismay and they started again. Oh ! he could hear his brother smug smile from there.

_ You've seen it Dean, once the plague starts spreading, there is no cure; and Devil or not, we are all screwed. Lucifer and his demons might do some damage while we go after the Horsemen but then they could be stopped. At least the demons since we don't really know what to do with Lucifer himself.

Well... said like that...

_ On the off side, angels will be pretty useless to us. We... mostly you, should remind Cass that he has more to himself than just his angel mojo. Did you get to see the most important hot spots ?

Dean nodded sideways, he has seen a few of them, but didn't think to ask about the starting point(s) of it all.

_ You had many things on your mind, we'll see with what we got and go on with that. Bobby's good with that kind of things.

_ We can't count on Bobby for everything Sam. He has his own life.

_ We have to count on anyone who might help Dean. Or we'll lose. Humanity will lose.

Dean didn't agree, it felt too much like he had failed somewhere.

_ There is something else on your mind.

Sam sighed and dropped his hands before circling around to sit on the closest corner of the bed. Dean was feeling almost liquid after such ministration.

_ I... am starting to doubt whether the Colt could be of any use against Lucifer.

_ What!

_ It doesn't make sense. The angels were gone, no-one to guard Heaven, and even Hell wouldn't be easily accessed. So why would they move the Colt around on Earth instead of hiding it somewhere you can't reach if not to keep you focused on some kind of wild goose chase. And let you get it when the world would be beyond redemption to finish it all.

Maybe it was time to stow his pride, there was definitely more in two heads than one. Because _that_ had never crossed his mind.

_ Is there anything that can kill him then?

_ If there is, it's probably something as old as them, something you can't find on Earth. And I highly doubt 'Loki' will let us try and kill him unless everything else has failed. It's his brother after all, he must want to at least try to get him back one last time before giving up.

On one hand, Dean could relate to that, he would burn the world before giving up on Sam. On the other hand they were talking about the Devil! and a major threat to Sam.

And your brother almost became a demon...

It was breaking his head.

A loud yawn drew him from his thoughts. Sam was stretching and started to undo the bed.

_ I don't know you, but I got a long day and I'd like to sleep.

That Dean could agree with. Still, he wondered what had gotten him to ask for one king. At least, the bed was enormous enough for both of them to spread without bumping into each other. Except that Sam had installed himself square in the middle of the bed, but Dean was too tired to glare. He settled on his side.

_ Dean, I'm not gonna bite you.

_ My.. who knew you were such a tease dear _husband_?

_What?

Sam sounding both disgruntled and half asleep was funny.

_Isn't massage supposed to be a prelude to others things?

He scouted quietly toward the middle of the bed, a smile on his lips; he could _hear_ Sam blushing.

_I just thought that you might sleep better if a bit more relaxed.

_ Ok. Thank you, sweetheart.

He landed a kiss on the stubble cheek as a finishing blow.

_ Jerk!

What did Sam say last time?...

_ Yours, so it doesn't really matter.

He felt Sam's breath catch under his hand, then even slowly.

_ Good night Dean.

His stomach unknotted when a large paw came over his hand.

So this was where Sam was drawing the line, Teddy Bear ok, but no sweetheart. Dean didn't really knew whether he was relieved or...

Time to sleep. He was thinking too weird for his own sake.

* * *

Why do I love to 'see' them cuddle so much?

By the way, if you have any question or comment, unlike Sam, I don't bite.


	8. Chapter 8 - En Passant

**En Passant - Jean-Jacques Goldman**

(Passing by)

* * *

When Dean woke up, he was still nested around his brother's arm. A peek at the alarm clock told him it was half past four, a.m.. That was to be expected, he was no longer used to sleep well.

He disentangled slowly from Sam and grabbed a shirt and trousers. No need to wake Sammy so early, but since he was awake for good, he could as well put himself to good use. He had the laptop in hand and was about to leave when he heard mumble behind him.

_ Dee? You leave?

_ Nope, just going downstairs. Sleep, it's still early.

_ Don't like it when you leave." Sam whined like a little boy.

That was when Dean realized he was still mostly asleep. He went back to the bed and brushed some hair.

_ It's ok Sammy, I'm not leaving, just doing some research downstairs. You can sleep. I'll wait for you to breakfast." He whispered.

_ Mmm...okay...

And he went back straight to sleep like that. Dean couldn't help but smile, Sam was such a child sometimes, it was both sweet and heartbreaking. But if what Sam needed was a "brommy", then he would be that.

_ Sleep tight baby boy, love you.

_ Luv ya too Dee...

His adorable, grumpy baby Sammy was still there, under all that anger and sorrow and self-loathing. It was good to know.

He went down and took a table in the lobby; the place was quiet, almost empty, and mercifully devoid of any 'conventioneer'.

Sam woke up to some banging in the hallway, one hand already on the knife before realizing it was just careless banter between two customers. The second and third things he was aware of were that Dean and his laptop were gone.

It was about eight, and a surprise that Dean had let him sleep so late. They had a long road ahead of them; and Sam was pretty sure his brother would have wanted to start early. He freshened up, changed clothes and went down in search for his other half.

The sight that welcomed him in the lobby was quite unusual: Dean and a few other guys, hunched over their laptops, a map sprawled across a table with lots of markings in about every colors.

_ What is that all?" he asked when close enough to the nearest researcher. It was 'Lanky Sam'.

_ We found your partner there when we woke up, searching for as many demonic omens, or weird things he could find, we asked if we could help. Others joined too. I think they are taking it as some new event, but they did find some interesting things." He whispered back.

_ And the colors on the map?

From this close, he realized it was a full map of the States.

_ Time scale. That guy," he pointed toward some Asian type dude Sam had not noticed before, "said that would be a good way to light up their moves, or if there are places where they tend to stay.

Sam nodded, that was a smart move. He was still surprised that Dean had agreed to that. That was as far from their habits as he could imagine.

_ Hey, _you_ said we could use as much help as we could get. And this shouldn't put them in danger." Dean greeted his curious look.

_ I thought it would take you more time to agree with it. Good morning by the way, has eaten?

_ Nope, was waiting for you, then got caught up in the thing. What time is it anyway?

_ A little past eight.

Dean's eyebrow rose up. That late? He was not usually into search parties, but he really hadn't seen the time fly. Sam offered to bring him food but Dean declined and got up: time to make a break. He turned toward the Asian as a natural second to get him to take the temporary lead of the search party.

Sam followed him toward the dining room, bewildered. Could two nights and some long needed talking change Dean that much?

_ So you know, I did not ask anything. The dudes from yesterday just came and bugged me about what I was doing, I told them, to make those idiots go away. And they decided they hadn't had enough or... I don't know; that it would be fun? And before I knew; people had organized things around.

Sam smiled at the surprise Dean was showing about people organizing themselves around him. Dean was a natural leader, in the sense where people were easily drawn to him, looked up to him.

That was why, even knowing they were doomed, many people had united under the apocalyptic future Dean. Despite his obvious lack of mercy and callous lead.

They picked up trays and started loading them; Sam picked up some fruits for Dean, and allowed himself some bacon and cheese. This time, Dean didn't even glare at the extra food. They waited to be installed at a corner table to start discussing Dean's findings.

There was not much, yet, a few concentrations of omens over some cities. Big ones like New York, Chicago or Washington were no surprise, but a few concentrations over smaller places, with _a priori_ no real interest were worth checking through.

Dean's first though was that, even if they had no real lead to follow concerning Famine and Pestilence, both of them must be escorted by a bunch of demons at their orders. So he went after demonic omens. And he found quite the number...

At that point, a young woman, disguised as Bobby, with beard and all, came to their table. Dean introduced her as "some geek who was in the search party" and let her eat with them. She had an idea: since the convention was about to close, and the search would take much more time to accomplish, they could make an online copy of the map so they would complete it as time goes on.

_ No way, not gonna let chucklehead add any crap on our map.

_ I can put a password on the site, and make sure we have to add the link to the corresponding article before the point is activated.

Sam mulled over it for a while, that was sound, but required quite a lot of work to create for a make believe.

_ Isn't it a bit much for some roleplay?

She gave him a look and lowered her voice.

_ I know there are things. I don't know how much of those books are accurate. But those things, they exist. And you know that too.

_ Ok." He turned to his brother: how many of them 'know'.

Dean shook his head: he did not have the answer to that. But, somehow, he was thinking it worth the shot, as long as he could let Sam handle this from now on. Then he dug vigorously into his eggs.

Sam exchanged a few technicalities and mails with Donna, half an hour later; they were on the move once again. To Sioux-fall, hoping they wouldn't be side-tracked again.

Less than a quiet hour after their leave, a flutter of wings startled Dean and made the car sway with some swearing. Gabriel was sprawled on the backseat, a lollypop rolling from cheek to cheek.

_ Hya kiddos. Had fun?

Sam drew a quick look toward his brother, ready so see him explode. He only got an unimpressed look back.

_ Your angel Dude, you handle it.

_ It? Not very nice of you Dean-o, _and_ I am an archangel, very different. Much better too if you want my opinion.

_ I don't.

Sam heaved a sight. It was going to be a long road if Gabriel insisted to do the whole trip in their backseat.

_ Just tell me it wasn't you who decided to organize a convention in a real haunted house.

_ I can tell you, but you wouldn't know if it's true or not." Singsong the _arch_ angel. "Hey ! No need to be sarcastic Sammish. Woke up bad? Your partner frustrates you? Not enough petting?

_ Just...

He was about to tell the brat in the backseat to shut up. Probably not a smart move. Sam heard some snickering behind him. Of course, he could hear that too, but Sam decided it shouldn't count.

_ Why are you here? We've got nothing for you actually.

_ Fiscal fraud is boring. There is always some fun with you.

_ Sorry to disappoint you, but a long drive is the most boring thing ever. Why don't you fly somewhere else and find us back when we get to Bobby's?

Obviously, Gabriel was already getting on Dean's nerves and he was showing his grump.

_ Nope, don't wanna fly.

_ Seriously, if all your siblings are like you and act as four years old brats, no wonder your family is a mess.

If looks could kill, Sam would have stabbed his brother a dozen times in seconds. Then threw a panicked look in the rear window, ready for some massive blown up. But instead of furious, those honey eyes looked pretty sad, before Gabriel averted his gaze toward the left, on the grasslands.

_ Maybe. Maybe that's precisely our problem. We are a bunch of kids, desperate to have daddy's love and approval but never learnt to grow up.

_ Is..." Sam hesitated... "is there some mother somewhere?

That earned him a piercing look. But no answer. Meaning there might be some digging to do there. But later.

Silence fell. Or more like, the sound of Metallica and the roar of the engine were the only heard in the Impala. Gabriel had made himself comfortable and was reading some book, probably snapped from nowhere. Sam made a face when realizing it was one of the Supernatural series.

_ I didn't know it was so badly written. Almost as bad as dad's writing skills. I should have insisted for some proof reader, in the contract.

_ I did.

Gabriel dropped the book beside him and crossed his arms on the backrest of the front seat, his head so close to Sam's that he could feel hair brushing his neck.

_ Did you?

_ It's our lives he is using to earn his money. I asked (Dean snorted) him a percentage of any future income, and the right to have a preview look on any further publication. And to change some things if we don't want it known.

_ Like your bad trip?

That was blunt and made Deans temper flare. Sam squeezed briefly but firmly his knee to shush him down.

_ Not really. I made some huge mistakes I am not proud of. But this is not what I care about.

_ I see..." It was both soft and teasing and unnerving Sam a little.

Well since they had about ten hours' drive before them, he could at least make some use of it. Some internet research was out of question but...

He turned toward Gabriel who had made a strangled noise and sported a horrified look.

_ Ten hours? That long?!

_ That's why I told you to get some fresh air." Dean interjected testily.

Gabriel opened his mouth, most probably for some witty retort. Sam prayed it wouldn't. Really, Gabriel might be able to fly away anytime if he got bored. But Sam would be the one to bear Dean's subsequent bad mood for hours.

He must have been heard, because what finally came next was directed at him.

_ You wanted to ask me something.

_ Yes: do you happen to have a Bible in one of your jacket's pocket?

Gabriel leaned his head on one arm and used the freed one to poke Sam in the cheek.

_ You know I'm right there, and I know much more than what that book can say.

_ And you made pretty clear that you don't want to be involved unless we have something solid to offer.

The smile Gabriel gave him made the corner of his eyes crinkle a bit.

_ Stubborn man.

A snap later, an ancient, heavy volume was weighting on Sam's knees.

_ It's the most accurate one I know written in modern English.

_ Thanks.

Sam was already flipping through the tome, marveling at the crinkling pages and faded ink.

_ By the way." Gabriel was so close it made him jump a little. "You can keep it. I have plenty others.

His thanks might have been a bit distracted, but he was quite fascinated by the book. And leafed through it a while longer before heading toward the section he wanted: The Apocalypse.

At one point, Dean might have sent him a derisive 'geek' his way. Sam might have answered with a 'nerd' on his own. Gabriel has retreated back in his seat humming in tune with the lowered music, but a hand was still playing with Sam's long hair.

The quiet ambiance lasted for a little more than an hour. Dean wouldn't know what surprised him the most: the archangel staying quiet or Sam letting him pet his head while reading. It was so... domestic.

With a freaking archangel, no less. Well, he had to admit that when he was not trying to teach them a lesson; he was acting pretty human, especially compared to Cass or Raphael.

Finally, Sam closed the heavy tome with a poof. But no "so get this" followed.

_ Found anything?

_ A lot: interesting, obscure, and... absolutely not helpful for us at the moment." A silence, then: "there might be some, but there is so much symbolism I can't make out anything useful right now. Seriously Gabriel _simplified_?

_ Still: a little summary?

Sam gave his brother the asked summary; loads of numbers : 1 lamb, 2 witnesses, 28 old farts, 4 winged things, 7 spirits..., no time or place precisions, even remotely vague, the Horsemen were mentioned but with absolutely no specifics, except for their mounts and weaponry.

Then the reign of Heaven, New Jerusalem.

_ At least you've got one place named.

He could see his little brother's brain suddenly tick and this big body of his come alive.

_ Where's your map? The one you draw this morning.

_ With your laptop, in the trunk. Shall I pull over?

Sam nodded but it quickly proved to be unnecessary. A snap later, the map was spread over Sam's lap and the headboard. And the Trickster's head was again popping over the backrest, resting on his crossed arms.

_ What is it?

Sam already being buried between the map and some pieces of paper he had fished out of... somewhere. Dean took on him to explain how he has spent the early hours of his morning.

Gabriel hummed softly in approval. It was strange, giving the nature of their previous encounters, but somehow it... felt good to earn approval from a zillion years old being. Other than Cass.

The guy was so awkward most of the time that it was difficult to imagine how long he has been around.

_ So, Sammy, what you're getting at?

_ New Jerusalem. New York... Nouvelle Orleans... Naples. Most of our cities are named after cities from the old continent. And the whole Bible is set around Middle East, the Roman Empire.

_ So?

_ I wanted to see whether the cities you pointed out, those with large amount of stagnant omens, could be amongst thoses.

_ And?

_ Some are, indeed: Troy, Antioch, Carthage, Hesperia refers to a Greek sort of Eden, Ramah, Hephzibah is a biblical name and apparently one of Zion's name too, and it just goes on... I'll text Bobby, ask him to dig up whatever book he has about those places. Hopefully, there will be some link with Death, or the two others. I'll search the net when we get there too.

_ So... how do you plan on thwarting my dear bother's plans?

_ Still working on it.

_ Let me hear that.

_ First part : gather information about his next move. Find out when, where and how he would summon the last Horseman. Second part : find a way to disturb his plans.

_ Is that a way to tell me off Sambo?

His tone was mildly playful but Dean suspected that the Trickster was also quite annoyed at his brothers derisiveness.

_ Just a way to remind you that, though we are aware of the tight schedule and the importance of it all, we are just humans and we can only go so fast.

There again, that weird casual tone Sam had already tried on him a few times, positively infuriating. And seeing Gabriel's expression, he was not the only one. Even if technically Sam was right, they couldn't be expected to find a solution to the apocalypse in just two days whilst dealing with a bunch of murderous ghosts kids on top of that.

To try and prevent further outburst, he turned the radio's volume up. Earning an indignant yelp from his right, and a slight huff from behind. Well to bad, Dean was fed up with arguments in that car.

Had been years ago.

Three times Sam tried to lower the volume. Three times he slapped his hand away, each time harder, until he gave up and folded the map with his notes in snappish movements. "Can't even hear my thoughts."

Sam brooded for about half an hour, then started to hum half consciously, even went to singing along mezzo voce. It made Dean smile. Until he realized what song was on and cut off the radio.

_ Hey ! For once I liked the song.

_ Nope, no way I am gonna let you sing _that_. Not in a million years.

The worst being that Sam looked like he really wasn't seeing any problem in singing "Freak" from Radio Head. With all the issues he has? Dean should bash him in the head; except that it wouldn't do any good.

_ On this on, I totally agree with Dean-o.

Strangely enough, Gabriel was still there, still reading sprawled in the backseat, just not toying with Sam's hair anymore. Still throwing some glances now and then at them.

That earned them another round of Winchester brooding, except that this time Sam had unfolded the map once again and was trying to squeeze some more information, scheme or whatever out of it. And judging by his increasingly frustrated expression, there was not that much juice to extract.

Until he slapped the map shut, exasperated.

_ What's wrong with that car! Can't it stop buzzing!?

_ Hoy, hoy, calm down, first: you're not talking about Baby like that. And second, there is no buzz except inside your noggin.

_ I am _not_ hearing voices Dean. Gabriel you hear that too?

_ Erm... define what's that "buzz" to you? Probably not the couple of sparrows chirping in the wood.

Sam was about to explode, for no reason, and it was starting to rile Dean up too. And he still didn't want fights in the car. Time to get the volume up, again.

Bon Jovi, not his favorite but it would do. The question was why Sam was actually staring at the radio.

_ Got a problem with Bon Jovi?

But the little bitch didn't even bother to answer him, just started to play with the volume button. Up, down to bare minimum, then deafeningly loud until there were statics. And Dean was starting to worry about his mental health, or if Gabriel had mojoed him dumb.

_ I ... might have gotten an idea. Not much to do with Lucifer himself but...

_ And you care to share, or you just want to keep on playing with the buttons?

_ Not yet. I... That's just, kind of a thing... Have to think first.

Sam yelped when Gabriel slapped the back of his head.

_ Spill it big oaf.

Sam huffed, then took some time to order his thoughts before answering.

_ I wondered if we could... err... hide exorcism into radio waves, or TV's. Just low enough not to be noticed by humans, but high enough to do the job...

_ Soo... your buzz was the radio not completely offed? Should have said so." Sam glared at him.

There was a sounding silence following. Dean was speechless, that was both so farfetched and quite awesome.

_ You know what, just forget I said anything... It's stupid anyway. We would need to hack into heaps of relays, stay undetected... It's too big, we don't have the resources nor the knowledge. IF, ... if it's even possible in the first place. And that would render our only lead useless.

He was pointing at the map laying between them.

_ I still buy it. We could ask Cass to check out the places, and when we're sure there nothing of interest in it, we just wipe out demons in the area and move on.

_ Ask Cass, if we can distract him from his God's search long enough, is a good idea. It's still plenty of places to check out but less than roaming the whole states blindly. But we can't take them one town after another; they will find out quickly and manage some counter measure.

_ Well.. when we will have the first Horseman we find out they will know we are on their tail anyway. And if we manage to make it full scale in the end, they will still be gone.

_ Unless they find a way to nullify it. And we don't want to make Lucifer change his schedule.

_ I thought that was exactly the point.

_ Not before we know what the schedule is.

* * *

What to say?

Thanks for my 3 followers and 10 readers or so for keeping up.

For the record, I know exactly where this is gonna lead. I'll just have to type it.

Might take a while, the boys are not behaving and sidetrack me quite a lot.


	9. Chapter 9 - La SIMCA 1000

**La SIMCA 1000 - Les Chevaliers du Fiel**

(The SIMCA 1000 (btw : it's a mini car)

* * *

Gabriel just sat back, propped against the left door, and cut out the boys' ball tossing to simply enjoy the feelings in there. There was many memories attached to that car: a happy couple in the back seat by the lake, a cheerful family going for a pic-nic, long hours across the country, promises carved in wood with knives by two young souls who had nothing else to call their own, lots of pain, lots of love, sometimes tainted with anger.

He could even feel that one of his sisters has been on that backseat. He should smite Dean one more time for this. But Sam wouldn't like it. Get them to listen had been difficult enough, offing Dean in creative ways wasn't worth losing their trust _or more like half-trust.

Seriously, couldn't have Father made those humans less stubborn?

Well, of course, he actually needed that stubbornness, otherwise they were all screwed.

And, it was feeling good that those two relationship finally eased. The few days he spent with them, pulling the morons through insane TV programs had been driving him crazy with the tension between them.

Now, there was hope again.

He slouched a bit more into those hard, leather covered seats_ good for him he wasn't prone to butt hurt, the stuffing was almost flat_ and popped some chocolate crispy balls.

Crispy outside, with some _gaufrette_ and nuts, creamy on the inside.

Then he popped their evil twins, white, coconut puffs filled with sweet chocolate, and threw the wrappers, bunched in one small ball, to Sam's pretty head. Who didn't even react, too caught up into his conversation with his brother to pay him any attention.

It was... a bit disgruntling. Heaven, _he_ was the archangel in the car! Getting ignored by a mere human for another mere human's sake...

Maybe he really didn't fit in here; except for the fact that he had no other place to be up out there. Maybe he should have sided with Lucy after all. Meaning they would both be dead, because the Host could stand to let one rebel alive and locked up, most certainly not two. But at least...

At least he wouldn't be here, uncomfortably sitting in the back of a car stinking of oil and gasoline, being ignored by the "true vessels" of his eldest brothers.

 _A superb blond, with a big pink smile. A tall building, filled with art, a museum. He wasn't that much into paintings, but she wanted to see it: a temporary exposition about some Renaissance artist he didn't care much about. He just wanted to see her smile. The first thing he though was "it's a trap". He was a believer, but not to the point to be fed up the throat with religious paintings._

 _He stayed for her at first. Seriously the guy had some issues, most of the paintings were about the Infant and the virgin Mary, normal, but a young St John Baptist was about everywhere too, in abject adoration before the Christ._

 _He got hooked up first to a self-portrait, the_ one _colorless painting in the whole hall. The eyes were weird, atone, but the straight nose, the disdainful pout: there was something there. Something that felt alive._

 _Then he went back to the others painting. And he realized it was everywhere: expressive faces, the flow of wind in the fabric, the vibrancy of the colors. Religious art or not it was beautiful. Alive._

 _There was a painting of Michael, taking down the Devil that looked like quite like the one Bobby would show them years later. It was giving him the creeps to think about that one now. To think that if Heaven had their way there might be their faces on some future painting exactly like that one._

 _If the Apocalypse were to let someone alive to paint it._

 _There had been one Annunciation too. Small, and strangely almost bare: tiled floor, marble column, and two figures, as far apart as they could be, Mary regal on one side and Gabriel in fluffy red robes on the other side. He wondered what those robes would look like on the little blond behind them._

 _He remembered they were red because it was in front of that particular painting she explained him that in those times, red, like blood and fire, was a masculine color, and blue, like the sea, was feminine. He had retorted that angels were supposed to be genderless. "It's symbolic stupid. In case you didn't know there need to be a papa and a mama to make a baby." She also pointed to him that the Father and Holy Spirit were there too, watching from above._

 _"That's turning pervy..._

 _She laughed, bumped his shoulder and called_ him _a perv. When she launched herself into some Renaissance symbolism lecture, he just looked at her, thinking that someday he would love to be the papa to that particular mama's children._

 _That was when he decided to propose her. He never had the chance to do so..._

 _They also spend the whole evening discussing about how ridiculous all those representations were : Mary, Joseph, Jesus himself were all Hebrew, but almost always depicted as white fair haired and small nosed_ and imagining what they really looked like._

 _Now she was gone, for long, for good. He would never wonder about silly things with her. But they now just happened to have the one being that could answer that silly question, sulking in the backseat. Life was that weird._

_ I'm not sulking!

 _Too bad that incredible painter was named after the douchiest archangel in the garrison._

_ That's my brother you're thinking about.

_ Which one?"Dean Intruded .

_ Raphael.

_ And what were you thinking about that douchebag?

_ Not you too!

_ Seriously Shortstop, have you _met_ him recently?

He got a flash, some shady shack, a ring of holly fire and an extremely pissed-of archangel standing here, Cass was there too. It didn't go well. Apparently, his family was just getting better and better.

Marvelous...

_ You're sulking again.

Gabriel threw a glare in Sam's direction before realizing that he sported a concerned expression.

_ I'm fine.

 _I know what 'fine' means._

At least he had the tact to answer privately, and drop the subject.

_ Next town there is a Dinner, left on the road, yellow painting, looks like crap, serves amazing homemade milkshakes and ice-creams. And for those who like it, steaks are said to be quite good too.

_ You really never eat anything but sweets?

Was he really asking? He was supposed to be the smart brother.

_ There is a slight problem with hanging out with pagans: you never know who's going to end up in your plate.

Both their grimaces were priceless.

Still they did stop at the Dinner Gabriel indicated so that he could fill his belly with more sugar than Sam must eat in a whole year. Dean got a steak he dubbed 'awesome'; like he dubbed many things, besides his brother. Sam ordered a salad that made both of them turn their nose. He still stole some of Freckles fries and forcefully put some carrots into his plate.

That was sweet to watch.

That also made him feel quite lonely.

He wished it was as easy to repair his family as this one.

Maybe it was possible. He had to hold on hope. Sam had come back after all.

When it was time to leave, after coffee, Gabriel got up to pay. He insisted on that. And Sam left before to make a call. Most likely to the Bobby man.

He got to meet the old man only once and briefly but he had seemed to be a smart guy, taking no bullshit from anyone. A good member for team Fuck The Book. Himself wasn't certain he was very welcomed. Guess he would just have to prove himself, no matter how much he loathed the idea.

If it could give him the slightest chance to overthrow his fate.

His musing was cut off by a flutter and the sudden sense of one of his siblings' presence, Castiel. He smiled, that big sneaking bastard.

_ Sam told me you decided to stop harassing them.

Gabriel stifled his sigh; Castiel has always been a bit weird, not very responsive of social standard. But whatever they did to him upstairs didn't help: both his mind and grace were a real mess.

That or daddy tremendously messed up the last few times he patched him up.

_ Hi Cassie. Happy to see you again too." He answered as cheerfully as he could_ at least he was good faking it. "I do hope he didn't phrase it that way.

Here was the infamous head tilt.

_ He said you... put them in probation, before eventually committing to help.

Laced with as much disproval he could muster when talking to one of the Four. On the other hand, he did call Raphael his 'bitch'. The Watcher had guts.

Guts called Dean Winchester, no doubt.

_ You disprove of me getting involved, or me not getting involved enough? Am I stepping on your flowerbed?

Castiel just stared at him without answering.

Worst part of it: Gabriel was almost certain someway the boys had realized he was lonely, and called the only of his siblings they could. Except he and Castiel never got along very well in the beginning. Strange when you think Cassie best friend was even more annoying than he is.

_ Hey, Feathers! Time to go. Unless you rather go enjoy some sundown from the Pyramids and join us at Bobby's tonight?

_ We're coming." He yelled at Ken-boy, then toward his baby bro: "Come on Cassie, we have a Earth to save. And I might have heard our boys have a mission for you. Don't worry, I know you called dibs on the short one, I'll be happy to get the big one.

_ I do not understand. What do you mean by call dibs?

_ You really think that I can't see you bonded him?

Again with that stare.

_ You also must have realized he has also married his soulmate recently.

This time Cass shifted uncomfortably. He knew.

_ I do.

_ You two come or just catch up with us latter?

He hadn't finished his sentence that Gabriel had his brother's wrist in his hand and them both into the backseat. Sam rolling his eyes at his antics made him cheers internally.

Dean, his bowlegs, the swingy way he walked and his freckles were cute. But he had to admit he really was more sensitive toward dimples, and 'chiseled like a Greek marble' shapes. And _that_ mind-blowing kiss.

Father that kid was making him all kind of crazy.

_ You can not be serious.

_ Deadly. And if you mind, I'd like you not to speak about that.

_ About what?

Samour, always curious at the worst time.

_ Angel stuff.

_ Of course.

_ Don't be so prissy.

He ruffled the soft long hair for good measure. And since his hand wasn't swatted away, he let it there. He started to suspect that Sam did like to be pet on the head. Did fit his puppy eyes thing too.

He caught Castiel frowning face and stuck his tong to him. Then nodded toward Dean.

_ You wanted my help with something?

_ Yes. Sam the map?

Sam took the piece and handed it over to Castiel.

_ It's not complete, but Dean started to make a recollection of demonic omens over the past few weeks.

_ Months.

_ So get this." He let the angel take it and peruse the markings. "As you can see, a few hot spots has appeared, besides the biggest cities. We suspect some must be the location of Famine and Pestilence. And with luck, some other might indicate Lucifer next target. Actually we are more focusing into finding the Horsemen...

_ I though you wanted to make Lucifer your priority.

This made Gabriel frown, Sam was the one doing the speaking. But Castiel had chosen to answer to Dean. Bonded or not, this was quite disrespectful. Dean did nod toward Sam to let him answer. He had a road to focus on.

_ Lucifer won't be spreading croatoan on his own; he will need Pestilence for that. And we can't cure it. When it starts, mankind is finished.

_ What makes you think that?

Sam related quickly Dean's trip into the future, with a few inputs from his brother.

_ You know how Zachariah plays dirty Dean. There is no way to know if what he showed you is true, or could be.

_ I do." Gabriel felt the need to peep in. "It was into the realm of possibilities.

_ Was?

_ It might still be, Sam is still not safe from falling into some of Lucy's trap. But I can't know anymore.

_ I do not understand.

_ Getting me into the game was an unexpected move, has never been foretold. It... created possibilities for more untold moves. They changed the rules. That's why the Host is in uproar: from now on they are almost as blind as any human.

_ How much the "almost"?

That was pleasing to see Dean fully apply his brain to something, not just rush into things and hope for the best. Gabriel had been so close to think that he wouldn't get to live and see that.

Not that he had that much hopes to live at all.

_ Whatever they knew before yesterday, they still know. Things will change from what they were supposed to be only if you keep on forcing Fate out of her tracks.

_ Except that we have no idea where the tracks are.

Gabriel pouted. The boy was a wonder to look at. But, sometimes, he was infuriatingly dense.

_ Hello. Archangel there.

_ You still have yet to decide if we are worth you jumping into the boat or not.

Nonononono... He HAD to do it on purpose! The mere fact that he was there; willingly stuck in that damn car for hours wasn't proof enough he was already on that boat?

_ And You do _Not_ deserve a cookie.

_ Sam never eats biscuits." Cass... always the helpful one. "I get what you have been doing, but you still didn't tell me what you wanted me for.

_ Right. " Sam went back on his track." Since we have some sort of head starter, we wanted to know if you could check those cities. It might not be entirely accurate yet, but it's still on work.

_ So you want me to check those places for the Horsemen. But not yet. So why did you call me now?

_ Keep you up-graded.

_ I have other things to do Sam.

_ Like search for Dad?

Gabriel had some difficulties to hide his annoyance at Castiel dismissal, and he could feel the same feeling radiating from Dean. From closer, he might have a better understanding of those two dynamics.

_ Castiel, baby brother of mine; if Dad wanted us, you, me, anyone, to find Him. We, you, I, someone, would have found Him by now.

_ Why would he want to hide from us?

Gabriel cringed a bit at the deep hurt covered with indignation in his brother's voice. Sadly, he was certain it was true.

_ Maybe he wants us to grow up and learn how to ride without the small wheels.

_ He... can't...

_ I'm sorry Cassie.

And he was, really. He wanted to be able to give another answer, badly so. But there was none. A flutter of wings latter, Gabriel was again alone in the back-seat.

* * *

I know, I know, nothing much in there.

Did I say I love Gab'?

Sam, I'd put a Greek marble of him in my back yard (if I had one).

Dean, I'd love a poster of a Casino Movie starring him on my living's wall.

Gab', I'd cuddle all night long. And some more...

Nota : I'll write Gab' when it's Sam speaking (pronounce like stab), and Gabe when it's dean (pronounce like cake)


	10. Chapter 10 - Mao Boy

**Mao Boy - Indochine**

(Does it need to be translated?)

* * *

_ Guess it could have been worse.

Or maybe not, given the glare Dean was throwing in his direction.

_ You are an ass. You really had to say that?!

_ Do tell me you don't think the same! I dare you!

_ I do! Ok! I don't think he's gonna find your Father. I also think there was no need to crush Cass like you just did. He has fallen, lost his whole family, finding his Father was what makes him keep going on. I though you could relate!

From the corner of his eyes he could see Sam abort a gesture to calm down his brother.

_ I spent thirteen centuries trying to find him. In the end, it did much more harm than good.

Dean knew he wasn't exactly fair with the short angel, but for once that Castiel had stayed, he wished it had lasted longer. Plus, Gabriel had been unnecessarily harsh. On the other hand, the guy was looking so dejected, his ranting felt like kicking a puppy.

And, despite this, he was still there, in the backseat of their car, when he could have bailed long ago. That alone spoke volumes about how lonely he must have felt all those years.

_ Dean cut it. He knows.

Sam has tried for soft; it still earned him the same glare Gabriel got. Then raised innocent eyebrows, looking cute sometimes worked on Dean. But not today.

_ Please?

Dean rolled his eyes, huffed, then let go. Reluctantly.

Sam turned toward the back of the car, Gabriel was huddled against the door, pretending to be bored and looking out the window. It was disheartening.

_ Hey..." Sam started softly. "You OK?

_ No.

He didn't know what got his brother, the simple admission or the look that went with, or something else. He felt Sam squeeze his shoulder reassuringly, then next thing he knew, his giant oaf of a little brother had contorted himself to get backseat and gotten an armful of blond archangel in his lap.

All normal, just routine.

And that trip was starting to get on his nerves; he wished they were there yet. Maybe grab a beer, or something stronger, get some fresh air. The mismatched repairs he had been doing the last few weeks needed to be addressed properly.

It was still a strange sight: Sam holding the angel in his arms, rubbing his back in silence. Apparently, it didn't mean they weren't communicating somehow, only that he wasn't part of it. He wondered if Sam had the same soft, pained expression when holding _him_ two nights ago.

Eyes on the road, Dean. It was not because Michael and Lucifer wouldn't let them die, or stay dead, he could let Baby get damaged.

Still, he wondered if the nutcrackers game hadn't impaired Sam's virility, bad blow in the balls could have sent his testosterone level down the sewer. That would explain a lot...

Or Sam had always been a hugger and had now decided to indulge himself.

He heard Gabriel mumble something, then.

_ That wasn't funny the first time, annoying the second, now this is getting old. I. Am. Not. Doing my _brother_.

Dean croaked a "What!", swallowed down the wrong way, then had to pull over: couldn't stop coughing.

_ Where the Hell did that come from!?

_ The Trickster being the Trickster?" supplied Sam tiredly.

_ Or Dean-o being jealous, you two sharing one bed since two nights, and being basically married?

Dean was at loss for words, that was so ...ridiculous. And oddly to the point, he _was_ a bit jealous, they had slept together the last two nights, and... somehow, they were basically working like an old couple, minus the sex.

_ One, Dean is having nightmares, we finally found out that not being alone helps. Two, I hope you just mean that living in each other's pocket for years makes us look like some old married couple, the other option is way too disturbing. Three, that's ridiculous.

Gabriel frowned.

_ But... You said it yourself...

_ Yeah, and I said I was FBI agent tens of times. Didn't make me one.

Dean could see the perplexity on the angel's face, the way he opened his mouth as to refute that, then close it. In a second, he had a mocking sneer on his face.

_ Ok, ok, I get it, really touchy topic. I'll try to avoid it. Really Sammich, you should loosen-up a bit.

He poked Sam's cheek with a finger before flipping and seating comfy on his lap, leaning his back on Sam's chest. A snap later, he had again a book in hand. Sam kept the bitch face on for a while before relaxing a bit and moved his cuddler around to make himself more comfortable.

Apparently, he had bought the "joke" thing. Honestly, even if it was quite disturbing, Dean was more inclined to think that Gabriel had been truthful, one way or another. Besides, their lives were weird enough to allow that kind of craziness.

And, to be honest, Dean _had been_ almost jealous. Or more like wishing he had someone to cuddle with too.

For a change, he searched for a soft rock station to tune on.

Sam was dozing, Gabriel was reading, Dean was... a bit bored: the road was quite dull in this area.

_ What you reading?

_ Still Supernatural.

_ That I could tell. When was that one?

_ When you were still two soft small cuties playing hunters with hope and faith in your eyes.

_ That's enlightening, thanks.

_ No need to be sarcastic Dean-o. It speaks of real estate manager wanting to build a new neighborhood in the middle of nowhere, killer insects, a creepy kid, and you slapping your brother's butt.

_ I see. I think Sam liked that kid. And it's been a while since someone last mistook us for some gay item.

_ Like last hour you mean?

Apparently, Sam wasn't really asleep, and still a bit edgy.

_ Stop bitching, or go back to sleep. It was embarrassing, but...you remember the lady who opened us with her speech of welcome? She was so sure we were a couple, I'm pretty certain that when we told her we were brothers, for a second she thought we were both brothers _and_ screwing. Her face... that was priceless.

He chuckled lightly at the memory, Gabriel was right, they had been such babies at that time. It was comforting to remember that there had been a time when embarrassing people, or his little brother, had been fun. Even if it meant for once indulging people misconceptions about their relationship and butt slap Sammy.

Maybe someday, they might be able to come back to those easy banter and sly teasing.

_ You mind to make a stop? Need some stretching.

Dean agreed that he could use the stop too. Take a leak, grab a drink, and enjoy some fresh air. He pulled over near a cluster of trees, Baby was better off in the shade.

They barely had time to get out of the car, Gabriel was already belly-sprawled on the rooftop, a chocolate bar in hand. Dean did his business quickly and went back to the car, rummaging through the cooler: beer, beer and oh! more beer.

Usually, Dean wouldn't have thought twice about it.

Now, not that he had made the formal decision to stop drinking; he still felt a bit bad about drinking almost only booze. And Coffee.

_ Hey...

Something cold grazed his arm. A glass bottle of something pale and fizzy, no label he could recognize.

_ Thanks.

He grabbed the bottle, uncorked it, and tried: it was not as sweet as he expected, a tad salty even, and peach flavored. It was good, and refreshing. He would have offered a drink to Sam, but his brother has wandered away, stretching along the road.

_ You are taking it much more easily than him. Much more than I thought too, given how skittish you usually are about that kind of thing.

_ I have no idea what your are talking about. And no scratch on my Baby." He warned as Gabriel shifted to face him more easily.

_ Which one?" Gabriel batted his eyelashes.

_ Apparently, Sam is the kind to like being clawed at.

Gabriel whistled, but a glare from Dean got him to refrain from making assumptions about how he learned that one.

_ Does it mean I have your permission to court your husband?

_ Not husband.

_ Then what?

Dean leaned carefully on the car, hands in his jacket pockets, mulling it over and watching Sam come back to them.

_ Does it need a label?

_ I guess no.

There was some fondness in the angel's tone.

_ Besides, I think I'd love to tell your brother "hands off, that's mine".

Gabriel was still snickering when Sam closed in.

_ What's that?" Sam was pointing at the mostly emptied bottle.

_ Good stuff. Too bad, there is none left.

He emptied the bottle with a smirk. Sam rolled his eyes and brushed past him to claim back his usual shotgun seat.

_ Nope." A raised eyebrow. "I'm toast, you drive the last leg.

_ Dude, we are half an hour from Bobby's. You exploded your record by the way.

_ You sure?" He had driven not more than 6 hours long.

_ That's Luverne over there.

That got Dean to perk up. Couldn't be: first he didn't drive faster than his usual, and they should have had to fuel at least once more before arriving; the tank was still a quarter full.

He looked up to the roof, to find it empty. The little fucker had already safely taken seat in the back of the car.

_ Real smooth Lo'.

It earned him an impish smile.

_ Mean?

_ Your Romeo cheated. Now move; you still get to drive.

Sam made no comment and scouted to the driver's side.

When they finally reached the familiar scrap-yard, they were immediately not-welcomed by Bobby's dog's barking. And a shotgun nuzzle aimed at them. Or maybe more precisely the backseat of the car.

_ Boys, looks like you've got some weird package there.

Sam should have bet that Dean would turn toward him, questioning why he hadn't add the recent events in his mailing to the old man. He would have won.

_ Didn't know we would have an archangel on our asses to make sure we do apply ourselves to find a solution to the Apocalypse.

That was a bit mean, he _did_ know Gabriel was quite lonely. But he was a bit cranky: Gabriel had been so adamant that they would need to prove themselves to earn his help. And know he was there, all chummy. That didn't make much sense.

_ Gabriel, Bobby. Bobby, Gabriel, also known as Loki, the Trickster and many other names. Got the whole list in my wallet if you're curious about it.

_ I am. Not now. You mind if I test you all before letting you in?" The gruff man answered from his wheelchair. That wasn't really a question.

_ Actually, yes I do. I'm Sam, this is Dean, no shifter, no ghost nor demon inside, the tattoo's still holding." He showed his clavicle to make his point. "And _no ghoul_.

The gun didn't waver. He raised the hem of his brother's shirt to uncover his left hip. Got a yelp and a swat for that.

_ There, there was a scar. I was twelve and pissed at Dean, I threw an opened tin-can in his direction, hit him there.

_ What! That was deliberate? You said you misfired from the garbage can!

_ It was a misfire: I was aiming at your head.

_ Bitch!

_ No news there. Jerk.

He looked straight at Bobby.

_ We're we. That's all the proofs you'll get. And this is really Gabriel, the archangel, into his own brand of "witness protection". If you think we've been played, you can call Cass. Good to see you too, by the way.

And he went to retrieve their gears from the trunk.

Sam understood Bobby's paranoia that was what had kept him alive for so long. But he would really rather not watch another scar been made on Dean's arm, or whatever Bobby had in mind.

_ Good to see you boys." Was the somewhat hesitant reply. "Feathers." He added as greeting in Gabriel direction.

_ Last time I saw you, you were standing old man. Gone a bit lazy with age.

_ Shit happens." Bobby answered briefly before clearing the way for them to get in.

Once their stuff stored in the guest room, they found Bobby in the living room turned into library. He was keeping a watchful eye on Gabriel, currently sniffing around and admiring the impressive collection of ancient tomes he had.

He was about to enter when Dean grabbed him by the sleeve and led him toward the kitchen.

_ Need help with the cooking.

_ Dean... The only thing Bobby ever had in that kitchen is coffee and cans of tomato beans... Huh... why is that fun?

_ Nothing... I... I just remembered that was your first word. 'Bean'.

Sam's eyebrows shot up, trying to reach his elusive hairline.

_ My first word was about food? Isn't it supposed to be things like papa or mama or .. .else?

Dean smirked at him, while grabbing a grocery bag from under the table.

_ Where that comes from?

_ If someone asks you, you can tell you don't know. Get me the pan behind you.

Sam did as asked. Dean emptied a disposable box of fried rice and shrimps in the pan and added some oil. Then ordered Sam to get the cutlery out and dress the table.

_ When you were a baby, you didn't talk much, and had difficulties with some sounds. D's for example.

That made Sam stop dead in his tracks, gaping. It was... oddly embarrassing.

_ He never really said it, but I know dad had been afraid you would be a bit dimwitted for a while.

_ Why?

This was new.

_ Like I said, you didn't talk much, and was unresponsive most of the time. You could spend hours before the TV, on or off, and just do nothing besides staring ahead, as if we weren't there.

There was a silence, Sam still had the pitcher in hand, he finished filling it and put it on the table.

_ Now I wonder, maybe it was because you had too much things to deal with inside your head, you had no room to deal with the outside.

Sam nodded, not that he remembered that time, nonetheless, he was getting what Dean was implying. Out of the few children claimed by Azazel, Andie, and that girl who could kill with a single touch, were the only ones who hasn't ended up as killing monsters, whatever the feelings driving them. It wouldn't be that farfetched to think that part of Sam's perpetual anger was fueled by the blood in him.

He jumped when fingers snapped right under his nose.

_ Sam!

_ Yeah, I'm here.

_ Good. Go tell Bobby dinner's almost ready.

* * *

Another chapter with nothing in it.

The two were short, so quick update.

Next on Friday.


	11. Chapter 11 - On ira tous au Paradis

**On Ira Tous Au Paradis - Michel Polnareff**

(We all belong to Paradise)

* * *

Turned out he didn't need to, the old man and Gabriel were already coming, discussing like old friends in a language Sam didn't recognized. Hands in his pockets, he leant on the counter near the cook.

_ Well done." He muttered. "You reckon what they are speaking in?

_ Japanese." Came the, surprisingly, immediate answer. "What? I'm watching animes, I get some words.

_ Animes?

Dean shrugged.

_Hentai, mostly. So what?" He caught on Sam's smirk. "Make yourself useful: try that.

He was handing Sam a spoon with a shrimp on it. That was good, maybe a bit salty.

_ I'm not asking about the seasoning. It doesn't taste funny or else?

_ No. Why?" Last time Dean thought something tasted funny, it had been tacos...

_ It did spent the day in the car.

_ Oh... I don't remember seeing fried rice at the buffet, or on the menu in that hotel.

_ Shut-up. Get a seat. Dinner's ready.

_Ok.

Sam held his hands up in surrender and did as told. He wondered when Dean has ever found the time to cook. Between two bouts of search party? And especially : since when did Dean cook something else than macaroni? Guess he might have under-estimated some of his brother's skills.

He caught Gabriel smirking at him and squashed the urge to stick his tongue in answer.

Bobby has already taken his usual seat, Dean was heading for another, Sam took the third.

_ I'll pull a leg out and say this is supposed to be my place? What that is?

Gabriel was looking at the device sided with a spoon in front of him. Sam scratched his head.

_ Erm... Ice-cream cup?

The funny look Gabriel sported made the inadequacy of the thing quite embarrassing.

_ I'm sorry but I don't think there is anything in there you would find edible. Guess you'll have to treat yourself.

_ It's ok. Thank you.

Sam stifled a huff... that was just common courtesy really. And even beneath that by most standards.

Bobby had the patience to wait until their plates were half emptied before addressing the elephant in the room : namely Gabriel. He got a glare from that, and this time he did retaliate with a very mature mental stick of the tongue. The blond wiggled his eyebrows suggestively in answer and Sam dropped it to focus his attention on the old man.

_ Dean and I were considering enlist some new crew members with enough power, or tricks up their sleeves to help solve our little problem. This one showed up. We had a bit of a misunderstanding at first about our respective positions in the chain of command. Eventually, we managed to sort it out and find a compromise. So Bobby, meet the new member of "Team Screw the Book" Gabriel, archangel, and actually claiming the _Trump Card_ 's seat.

_ This is a way to put that. Anyone for a second help of rice?

Dean dispatched what was left in their three plates and discarded the pan.

_ Last time I heard of you; you had killed Dean for about a thousand times to convince Sam to let him go to Hell and stop trying to find a way around or out. Not that it was very effective, except in pissing my boys off. What makes you think you can be of any help now?

Sam and Dean exchanged an impressed look; trust Bobby to take shit from no-one. That man really was something.

_ I'm not gonna be the one to make the plans. They" he stuck his spoon in Sam's direction "decide what they want to do, and how. I provide the knowledge I can and the means to get their schemes working.

Bobby mulled over it when finishing his plate: "That wasn't bad." and served coffee from the pot behind him.

_ So, what's your goal?

_ Not dying, should be enough of an incent.

_ That's not all of it.

_ This is my family. I bailed once when I might have made a difference. Am I really allowed to stand by and do nothing when two humans and a broken angel are giving all they have to make this right?

Bobby nodded, apparently convinced. Then went back to work.

_ Sam, I dug up whatever books I had about the cities in the list you mailed me and that other thing, but some are downstairs. I made a list, you two go find it.

He was pointing at Dean and Gabriel, who huffed in annoyance. Dean grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him out of the room. "He could do that himself!"

_ Yeah, and riverdance !

The blond head popped back.

_ Could you teach me then?

_ Not gonna happen Feathers.

Gabriel's laughter followed him down the basement. Sam followed Bobby to the living.

_ What did he do for you to forgive him?

_ We didn't.

_ Good to hear. Didn't find much about the up-coming rise of Death, how to summon him or any way to track down the Devil. I guess you could pray to him and ask for a rendez-vous.

Sam huffed and carded his fingers through his hair.

_ Let's keep that as a very last resort. I feel queasy just thinking about it.

_ What about you and your brother?

_ What about us?

_ He is cooking! And acting like your freaking house wife.

_ Honestly, I'm not sure." Sam heaved a loud, dismayed sight. "I did try to have him open-up a bit and rely on me a tad more. Apparently, it worked better than expected, and has some... unexpected side-effects.

_Anyway, I'm glad you made up. You two look better than I've seen you during the last decade. Keep doing whatever you did.

_ I do intend to. Which ones do I take?

Bobby pointed a pile of books on a chair, Sam took them and went to the sofa. Soon engrossed in his reading, notes taking and pages marking.

Dean, some dusty volumes in his arms followed the little blond to the living, to find, without surprise their favorite book worms already buried under paper.

_ Hi! Still in that wheels old Grump? Tss... Make my work worth and get rid of that thing would you.

Bobby shot a dark glare in his direction.

_ I think he is serious Bobby. Just, give it a try." Surprisingly, it was Dean who backed Gabriel up.

_ Don't wanna to. I'm comfortable there.

Sam hid his smile behind the Crusade book he was actually perusing. Dean dropped the subject, and the books on a vacant spot. When Bobby was being stubborn, better not insist.

The whole evening was quite uneventful, filled with dust smell and crinkling papers, Gabriel outrageously flirting with a surprisingly unresponsive Sam given the 'car thing'. Dean felt like moving, books really weren't his forte, plus he had done his part this morning.

_ I'm gonna make a tour, should be back in a couple hours.

Bobby simply nodded to him, Sam gave him a longer look, and nodded too, eventually. Dean has made a nap during the last half hour drive, he was good enough. He took the keys and left.

He took one direction at random a settled for an half hour drive, before pulling out in the middle of nowhere and fished his phone out of his pocket. He hoped it would work this time; question was whether they would come.

He send a prayer. Then dialed Cass' number.

_ Dean? What is it? Is there a problem with Gabriel?

He smiled, touched by the concern in his angel's voice. Even without mojo, Castiel's protectiveness was always soothing. Disconcerting, but soothing.

_ No, he is being unexpectedly quiet most of the time, when he is not trying to smooch Sam. I called because I wanted to apologize. We thought you might feel a bit better having one of your siblings around but, apparently it wasn't that good an idea.

He sat on the hood of the car.

_ I... appreciate the gesture.

_ Will you come over?

_ Where are you? at Bobby's?

Dean gave him the coordinate, a flutter of wings later, Cass was right in front of him, phone still in hand.

_ Why do you want to see me so soon?

_ Aren't you tired of being alone?

Cass blue eyes darkened and he lifted his shin.

_ I have a mission Dean. There is no time to indulge myself.

Dean heaved a breath, scratched his forehead and realized he still had his phone. He stashed it in his pocket before answering, as gentle as he could muster.

_ A self-appointed mission Cass. And...

_ You think Gabriel is right and it's futile to search for my Father.

He felt bad, really bad. As far as he knew, that was the only hope Cass still held.

_ Yes. I'm sorry. I doubt you will find him. You or anyone, not if he doesn't want to be found. And even if you do, you might be disappointed. I can relate. I've been there Cass. I also know this was about the one thing that's keeping you going, right now.

The miserable look in those eyes was painful to watch.

_ Dean, why are we here?

_ Waiting for someone, if they come. And because watching Bobby and Sam burying themselves under papers like rabbits in their holes is depressing.

Castiel questioningly tilted his head, since he didn't voice it, Dean didn't feel compelled to answer either.

_ Dean, you might not believe I will succeed. But I still have to try. I should go.

_ Even if I am asking you not to leave?

_ Why?

_ I want you to stay. It's been a while we didn't just talked. About... stuff...

It was disconcerting how easily it came out. Dean was about certain he would never have admitted he missed Cass, only a few days ago.

_ You are not alone Dean, you have your brother and Bobby. And Gabriel now.

_ You never have too many friends. And Gabriel does not replace you.

_ He is much stronger.

That was stupid! It made Dean's temper suddenly flare.

_ I don't know how it works up there Cass. But down here you don't put value on a friendship based on how powerful or how useful people are! You are my friend, mojo or not! Even if you had fallen all the way down to human, you would still be! Because you're you and no one else.

A loud clap came from nowhere to see.

_ Such a beautiful speech. I'm almost teary eyed. Now you'll have to stand by it.

_ That's what I'm trying to do." He shot back, grumpily.

Dean wasn't sure what he expected Balthazar to be like. Anyway, that wasn't disappointing: short curly blond hair, vivid blue eyes, tight jeans and the deepest V-neck he has ever seen on a man. Guy looked like a former gogo-dancer.

He did like the look of surprise and hint of happiness on Castiel. Just before it morphed into suspicion and dread; making Dean wonder if it was a good idea after all. Gabriel did assure him that Balthazar was utterly loyal to Cass and good at evading their siblings' scrutiny, but his intels might be a bit outdated.

_Your human called me. Told you could do with some company. Don't worry I made sure I wouldn't be followed.

He added a few more in guttural a language Dean couldn't understand and suspected to be Enochian.

_ Nice work by the way.

He was eyeing Dean with an appreciative look that gave him the creeps. He wondered if the weirder angel was talking about Castiel patching him up or the sigils on his ribs. Then his eyes widened, a bit like Cass the morning he came to bite Sam's head off.

_ Now I understand a bit better.

_ Understand what?

He tried to act cool despite his discomfort; even if he knew it was certainly futile.

_ Why my thundering brother is so... upset.

That reminded him.

_ If you could explain? Because Gabriel and Castiel reacted about the same way you did, but said nothing.

That earned him a weirded look.

_ You... don't know what you did?

_ I know. Still can't figure how that could have happen. The question is why is it so important?

_ I'm not sure I can say it. I'm pretty sure it's best if I don't.

At least he asked. One last thing.

_ We have been bullied mostly by Zach and Raphael. Even Lucifer once did contact Sam directly, in his dreams. Where is Michael in that mess?

_ I wish I knew. Haven't seen him, nor heard of him since centuries. Since when he send Lucifer downside and had to announce us Gabriel had become casualty. Even your little stunt two days ago didn't drag him out of his hole. You'll either have to say yes or play very hard to get to face him.

Dean nodded, and let Cass catch-up with his friend and brother. Spotting a small silhouette near his car he went back.

_ Hi.

_ Came to make sure no party crasher would join?

_ Yep. And because your brother might be beautiful, watching him elbow deep in books ignoring me is a bit boring.

Dean was sure the 'ignoring the angel in the house' was the most annoying part for Gabriel. Strangely enough, he was quit certain the blond really liked Sam. Even if he didn't know when or how it happened.

_ Earlier than you could imagine.

_ How do they call that? _Tough love_?

_ Shut up!" Came the annoyed retort. "I was angry, and you disappointed me, guys. Not that I'm proud of it. But if I had to do it again, I would.

_ Nice...

_ Angels are not known to easily accept being wrong. Usually it's more in the line "I was doing the right thing, shame it turned out badly".

_ Must be restful never having doubts.

_ And awfully dangerous. It did drag me much further than I wanted to go. I'm not sure your brother will ever forgive me for what I've done to you, both.

_ He did leave me behind to come back to you. That should count.

_ Every time I try to make a step forward, he makes three back.

_ Then don't.

He was a little proud he was able to make an archangel blink, twice. Didn't think that would need to elaborate, guess angels didn't only suck at accepting being wrong.

_ You should remember that the last time some supernatural being came to us to 'help', it was Ruby.

Now Gabriel was offended.

_ You didn't make that much a good impression, and most of your siblings were even worse. Even Cass betrayed us, even if unwillingly. And Sam has a history of making the wrong choice, for good reasons.

_ So... the more willing I am, the least he will trust me. ... Winchesters...

Dean laughed at the dejected look the blond sported.

_ You know what you signed up to.

Then yawned. Time to go home and bed.

_ I can pop you back if you want. Sam will hate me if I let his brother get in a car crash because he is too tired.

_ No thanks.

_ Stubborn.

Before Dean had time to react, he had Gabriel's hand on his forehead. He braced himself for the gut twisting feeling he had last time Cass 'popped' him somewhere but nothing happened. The blonde's hand was cool against his skin, and oddly refreshing.

When Gabriel drew back, his fatigue has receded too.

_ It will come back, human bodies need to rest. Go home, I'll stay a little more.

Dean nodded, bid a mental good bye to Cass and a verbal to the angel next to him, then hoped in the car. Back home.

When he leaned against the living room threshold, it was to find Bobby in his desk chair, the wheels discarded in a corner, Sam hasn't moved, books had changed place, and a pair of mugs had made their appearance.

He spread himself on the sofa, feet on Sam's lap; making him scrunch his nose.

_ Dude you stink. Go take a shower.

_ Later.

_ Went well?

_ Yep. At least they weren't yelling at each other when I left.

He wiggled his toes.

_ No way.

_ Spoilsport. Your side?

_ Slowly.

He watched his brother put a signet in his book and add it to... one of the multiple piles around him. Then crane his neck and stretch his gorilla's arms before swatting Dean's feet off him to get up.

_ I'll call it a day. Good night Bobby.

The old man barely acknowledged them, still focused on his reading. They went up, Sam pushed him to the shower and went the other way to make the beds.

When Dean went back, pleasantly refreshed and relaxed, it was to discover that Sam had made the two small beds separately but discarded the bedside between them to push the beds against each other.

_ None of those beds could have dealt with our combined weights.

_ That's your fault. Why did you have to grow up so much anyway?

_ To shield you. And, you are only short compared to me.

Dean watched the door close behind his giant of a brother and went to his bed. The sheets were clean, but as old as the house and a bit rugged. He thought about Bella "naked in silk", must feel nice.

For just a few years. Then an eternity downstairs. He hadn't seen her there. He hoped her deal was worth it. He doubted it.

_ What you thinking about?

_ Silk sheets.

That made Sam show his dimples. Sam has hated those dimples for years, everyone, especially old ladies, found them cute. He didn't want to be _cute,_ too girly.

Dean found them cute too. Wasn't gonna say it.

He waited for Sam to slip into his own bed to claim his arm; the gap between the frames was too wide to get any closer.

_ You really found nothing?

_ We found things, I completed the list of cities to check, we discarded others. If Cass, or us could check on them, just in case, it would be safer. And, how is the King-Mage turned angel?

_ You think it's the Melchior, Gaspard and Balthazar ... Balthazar?

_ You heard of another biblical Balthazar?

Dean shook his head, not that Sam could see it. But, that guy... the old fart in the Nativity? That had to be a joke. He felt a nervous laugh bubble in his chest.

_ I guess he doesn't look too much like history remembers?

_ Nope... really not. You remember that French teacher in... where was it? ... anyway, you were what? 8th grade. He was giving the creep to most girls.

_ Black leather jacket and santiags?

_ Yep, that one. Imagine the same, bleached blond and sheep curly.

_ Looking forward to meet him." Sam commented dryly.

Dean pondered for a while whether to address the subject he has been toying with during his way back.

_ I'd like to ask Cass if he knows a way to summon a demon.

The arm he has been holding into was torn from his grip when Sam got up. In surprise? in anger? It was too dark to know.

_ Sam, come back here. I just want to try the thing you were talking about.

Sam lied back down, but facing Dean this time.

_ No.

_ What? It was your idea. I mean, whether we manage to broadcast on large scale or not, if we manage to smuggle exorcism into radio signals, it would make our job hella easier.

_ I don't want you near one of those bitches. And... I'm not sure i can trust myself either.

That chilled Dean to the bones, no no no he was not saying what he was saying!

_ Dean... I'm ok. I don't feel the need anymore. But, I haven't been near a demon ever since either. And.." he huffed in dismay "You don't put a syringe on an ex-heroin addict bedside.

_ I won't let you Sam. You know I won't. And... we might get intel.

_ That's why I don't want you to summon one.

He sounded... dejected. It took no long to Dean to realize he was probably thinking about Alistair, and felt bad about bringing the subject up. Himself felt like he should have waited morning before talking about his idea.

_ Ok, no questioning. But still, you _did_ come up with a good idea. And Donna has friends who might be able to get it done, when we decide how.

He really should have waited for that, now Sam was being bitchy and bossy, _he_ was too tired to spend hours arguing and knew he wouldn't get much sleep tonight, not now. Dean settled back in the middle of his own bed, toying with the idea to get up and retrieve one of Bobby's fine wiskey from a drawer.

But that would be a loss. Lay off the drinking wasn't a conscious decision at first; but now he wanted to stick with it as much as possible. He had seen firsthand what it could do to a man. And, somehow, it was bothering him to realize that Sam has never tried to keep him away from booze. Especially since he had held their father in such contempt for the same reason.

He needed to be better than that. Stronger than that. Sam shouldn't have felt the need to protect his older brother, it wasn't in the natural order of Dean's.

* * *

Sorry, forgot to post yesterday.

For the record, the chocolate treats Gab' was popping are "Ferrero Rocher". And the coconut ones "Raffaello".

And if you've never seen one of his paintings, please jump on the occasion if it comes.


	12. Chapter 12 - Les autres sont Jaloux

**Les autres sont Jaloux (Chérie Chérie) -Yianna Katsoulos**

(The Others Are Jealous)

* * *

Dean was kicking and trashing. Again. They hadn't made to bed till two hours ago. Good night! This time it wasn't a Motel room and Sam felt a bit torn at the idea to flood it. Last time he tried to wake him up, he almost got punched, several times.

Careful of Dean's fists, he tried to shake his mumbling brother out of his nightmare. Shook harder, got slapped for it. Worst move: try with both hands. That earned him a very nasty kick from Dean's knee, right into...

Well, that got him to the floor with a very unmanly shout, folded in half with some pain he wished he wouldn't have had to experience twice in the same week.

The upside was: at least that woke his brother up.

_ Sam? Where...?

He tried to answer, from the floor, couldn't utter anything besides a croak through the barely receding white hot burn.

_ Oh? You... erm... you alright?

Didn't it look obvious? He could see Dean scouting toward him. Wasn't easy to regain his composure. He still managed to climb on his knees before feeling a hand on his shoulder.

_ Sam?

_ Gabriel first, then you, good thing I don't expect to have children.

Dean's face should be priceless, too bad it was too dim to see it.

_ Look... dude... I'm sorry... like _really_ sorry. I didn't mean to.

He did hope so! On the other hand, it had been a very well-aimed kick. He didn't mean to do it to Sam, but he did mean to bust someone balls.

_ Want something? Ice maybe?

_ Yup, would be good. And some coffee. I don't think I'm gonna sleep anytime soon now.

_ Neither I am. I'm going down, just follow when... when you feel like it.

_ OK. Erm... don't forget the ice pack!

As an answer, Dean gave him a thumb up on his way out.

Sam leaned back against a wall and carded his hand through his hairs. Dean's mumbles... were disturbing. He knew demons were nasty bitches. But to go as far as using his appearance to torture his brother.

Then Dean coming back to a brother well on his way to become a demon himself. No surprise he had a hard time accepting him back.

However, Sam marveled on the fact that Dean hasn't given up on him. Maybe it was just because Dean had no one else to hold onto. And _that_ had to end, one way or another. He gingerly got up, picked his phone and climbed down the stairs.

God, that fucking hurts.

Entering the kitchen, he was welcomed by a flying pack of frozen.. peas? Not a time to be picky... He did forego the wooden chairs to go directly back to the library and its less uncomfortable sofa. And the waiting pile of books.

He loved books, really. But right now, he was feeling like searching for a needle he didn't even know what it looked like in a stack of others needles, and toothpicks, and straws.

_ You... don't look too good.

Gabriel was perched on Bobby's desk, leaning toward him.

_ No kidding.

_ Too much activity?

_ More like got kicked.

_ Isn't he a shy one.

Gabriel was lucky he had angelic super speed, and strength. Sam would have throttled him.

_ Don't. You. Dare. Make. Jokes!" He growled as low as he could, not to be heard from the kitchen.

The archangel's anger at being attacked melted slowly from his face.

_ Oh...

Sam didn't bother to answer and took a book in the 'not yet read' pile. He was exhausted before getting started.

_ Kiddo... I'm sorry.

_ Sorry for what exactly?

Dean was coming in, already halfway through his own mug. Good thing he brought the whole pot with him. That was promising to be a long night. Then a long day... until they finally find something useful.

He half registered Dean throwing a disgusted look at the old dusty books and gingerly pick the smallest he could find, and Gabriel bend over the 'maybe something' pile. Himself was quite focused both in filling his brain with caffeine and a tome about the Civil War.

Three hours and as many dusty tomes later, Dean was taking a nap on his lap, and Gabriel had sorted through the piles of books him and Bobby had already perused; stacking them into new piles, discarding most of them.

That was a mostly silent work. So Sam jumped, and dislodged his brother in the move when doors clapped shut just before the house. He grimaced as the pain shot up between his legs and the now melted pea bag fell on the floor.

He threw a look toward Gabriel. Got an unimpressed look back. Guess no angelic threat then.

_ Dude?" Dean's messy hair and his cheek imprinted with Sam's jean's sewing were a sight. Especially when he was yawning like that, hairs fuzzy.

_ We got company.

That got him sound awake in no time, hands already on a gun. Sam had the knife and was heading toward the window, just in case. Then pocketed it back, the two feminine figures were familiar.

_ That girl looks like trouble.

_ Because Dean likes her? Or because she likes him?

_ She doesn't." Came the retort from the hall, just before Dean opened the door to Ellen and Jo. "You better have brought breakfast, there's nothing still edible in there.

_ No kidding. Hi boys.

Ellen was the first to enter, smirked at Dean's tattooed cheek and made a bee line toward the kitchen, bags in hands, smelling like fresh bakery.

_ He didn't deny the first part." Gabriel whispered next to him.

_ Of course, first time they met, she kicked his ass, punched him in the face.

_ Oh... so he's that kind of guy?...

_ Let's say Dean likes his women the way he likes his car: sleek, tough shell and some bite under the hood.

Dean's head, who had followed the scent of croissants to the kitchen, popped back.

_ We can hear you. And it's still not _my_ kink.

Sam let an exasperated sigh.

_ I was speaking metaphorically Dean.

He was heading toward the same room when Gabriel smirk stopped him.

_ If biting is not _his_ kink. Who's is it?

He had some playful light in his feline eyes that made Sam a tad too self-conscious. Careful not to step in, Sam rolled his eyes and joined the party in the kitchen.

Dealing with Gabriel on the long term was proving more difficult than expected, not that Sam did expect to have to deal with him all day long, so soon. Especially not his heavy, lame bar-flirting. He was even worse than Dean.

The fact that he both liked, mostly, the blond angel and was still angry against him wasn't helping either.

He went to make some fresh coffee and asked whether someone would go wake Bobby up. Ellen volunteered. Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows. Sam pretended he hadn't seen it. Dean, and Jo were sniffing awkwardly around each other, like about... always when not elbow deep into a hunt.

Looked almost like some cozy morning at the Camden's, coffee smell, chit-chat, pastries and jam. Too bad, the girls didn't brought peanut butter, and Sam wouldn't trust any he might find in Bobby's cupboard. With grumpy Bobby and bossy Ellen back, the picture was complete.

It was a nice heartwarming picture.

_ You don't feel like it.

That was Gabriel, very discreetly when leaning over him to get some more jam on his toast.

 _I'm not really tailored for this kind of things. But he fits perfectly._

_ By the way, _who_ are you ? And what are you doing here?

Jo was pointing her fork toward Gabriel, an half bitten toast in her other hand.

_The name's Gabriel. And I'm waiting for the boys to find little old me some usefulness.

_ You can't find one yourself?!

_ Actually no.

Sam caught Dean's eyes, that didn't sound good. A pissed archangel wasn't good news; neither was a Jo full of scorn. But Gabriel hadn't introduce himself as an angel, they weren't sure if they should.

_ What Gabriel means is that we need to elaborate at least the backbones of a plan before deciding who's gonna do what in it.

_ And how did you find him?

Ellen stepped in, carefully neutral, adding scrambled eggs to Bobby's and Jo's plates.

_ He found us actually." Dean prompted around some crispy bacon.

_ Ain't that suspicious in the slightest...

Sam sighed internally; apparently, Jo didn't like Gabriel any more than he liked her. He couldn't blame her though, as a Hunter she was supposed to be suspicious about any supernatural being. He refrained to answer testily, barely.

_ Pagans have as many reasons to want to avoid the Apocalypse as we do. Earth is their home too. We'll need all the help we could get.

_ And we'll keep at that. Don't ruin my breakfast with your silly bickering." Bobby interjected.

_ You trust him?

That was Ellen, no scorn, no fake incredulity. That was a true question. Sam liked her, she was level headed, and did Bobby a lot of good.

_ As far as I can throw him. He did fix my legs.

_ Thanks a lot for the vote of confidence.

_ Gab, not helping." Chided Sam halfheartedly.

As an apology, he got a hand on his thigh, high. He took it between two fingers to put it back where it belonged : on Gabriel's own thigh.

Then the conversation rolled onto other things, Ellen and Jo's last hunt, news about other hunters, omens, Dean's Map, the usual jig. Mercifully, they didn't come to _their_ last hunt, or last two hunts.

 _By the way : Hulk? Really?_

_ You guys can be so dense sometimes.

_ Not our fault if we had never heard of your kind before Crawford Hall.

_ You didn't know about pagan gods before meeting him? You're kidding me?" That was Jo.

_ Oh, yes we did. But not about the specifics of Tricksters.

_ Gabriel don't strike me as Pagan name.

_ Because that's my cover. You can also call me Loki if you really wish.

_ The Loki ? Father of Fenrir, Hel, Jörmungand, Vali, and mother of Sleipnir?

_ You didn't tell us that. _Mother_?

Maybe from Dean's side of the table that looked like some great joke. But from Sam's side, he could see Gabriel's sudden stiffness, and white knuckles. There was something wrong about this, he couldn't help but feel worried.

 _Gabriel?_

Sam had to give it to him, the angel was an amazing liar, in a second the Trickster they met was right in front of them. No trace of the Gabriel he had come back to, in that abandoned warehouse.

_ You just needed to browse through your Nordic myths Dean-o. But, that's right, you would never pick a book unless under duress. And, yes, I can do both.

Sam had to kick his brother under the table to prevent more outbursts. Luckily the breakfast was soon wrapped up. Dean went to fix his car, the girls to do... things. He asked Bobby for his car keys.

_ Gabriel? Coming with me?

He could feel the angel was brooding and fuming, Sam was just surprised he hasn't left altogether, torment some villain to get the steam off, or something. Sam guessed doing the grocery, and pack a whole cart with sweets, might be a second, or third best thing.

_ Thanks.

_ You're welcome.

Sam tried, not to ask, not to pry, still couldn't help but wonder.

_ Shoot kiddo, it's ok...

_ You look about anything but ok.

_ Your head's spinning, that's a bit tiring.

_ Sorry.

He has tried to keep Gabriel from hearing him, guess he'll need more practice.

_ I thought that angels were forbidden to... have children.

_ Nephilims are strictly forbidden, the children of an angel and a human are extremely powerful, thus dangerous. The fruit of an angel, even an archangel, and a pagan is far from that. Human souls are... special. Combined with angel grace...

He trailed off. Silence stretched until Sam broke it with another question.

_ Does it mean pagans and creatures don't have souls?

_ They do, in the sense that even after their death there is something left behind. But it's different. You are Father's masterpiece. You have no idea how much.

Sam took some time to mull over it, and park Bobby's truck before the grocery store.

_ How... many?

_ Twenty-eight.

_ And there is none you kept in touch with?

_ They are all dead Sam.

Oh... wow... that was...

Well, this explained that...

_ What does it explain according to you?

There was some defiance in his tone.

_ Why you are so lonely and angry at the whole world. Your mean mask as a Trickster.

_ Who says I am not really mean? After all I did to you.

_ You are there.

It was really as simple as that. Despite everything, Gabriel had stayed, waiting for someone to come back despite the odds. And now he was still there, still trying.

_ We'll find a way Gabriel. To give you back at least your brothers.

Then a though occurred to him.

_ If there is something left after Pagans and creatures die, where do they go? I guess it's not Heaven nor Hell.

The torn face of Gabriel's make him ache. Ok, wrong question.

_ Sorry.

Gabriel shook his head and opened the door.

_ It's ok, that was a good question in fact.

_ One you won't answer anyway.

There was no bite nor heat to it, just acceptance. One thing he wouldn't accept, was the false cheerfulness he was showing right now, chatting about mindless things, goofy grin firmly in place.

He wished the angel wouldn't feel the need to show off in front of him alone. Maybe he was overestimating himself. Not that it would be a first.

_ It's not about you kiddo.

So... one way or another, he _was_ overestimating himself, again. Gabriel opened his mouth, as he was about to retort to his thoughts, but didn't. Simply slipped his hand into Sam's large paw, at least until he had to take it back to drive the cart.

They filled it with about whatever they could find: vegetables and fruits for his own diet, things to micro wave and canned stuff, in case Dean's bout of cooking was just a on time thing, meat to barbecue. When Sam, out of habit, got a hand on some pie he stopped and turned toward Gabriel, whose hands were full of "Henrys" chocolate bar.

_ Did you see an oven in Bobby's kitchen?

_ The thing with a rifle and shells stacked in? Not sure it's still workable.

_ Dean might be able to fix it. He's good with that kind of stuff.

_ What do you want to use it for?

_ Try real pie? Without all those weird stuff in it. E's thingy, corn syrup, glutamate... I don't even understand half of what's written on those labels. Not even sure I could read it.

_ Do you even know how to bake a pie?

_ There must be some recipe books somewhere." Sam half shrugged, he was far from confident there, but still. Could at least try. And that would make a change from all the books about lore he still has to go through.

They found some "Cooking for dummies" book that looked... fitting.

Soo... flour, egg, butter, sugar, yeast. And apples of course. Easy.

Maybe...

_ Don't worry, I can help.

_ You know how to cook?

_ One cannot spend centuries on earth and not end up crazy without getting a few hobbies. And it's more satisfying sometimes to eat something you actually made instead of just popping it into existence.

_ I was raised with microwaved ready meals, macaroni and cereals.

_ I can see that.

And with a snap, everything ready-made, except for Gabriel's candies, disappeared from the cart and replaced with freshies.

_ If no one else has time to cook, you will.

_ Ok. Not that I have much to do actually anyway." Gabriel dismissed easily.

_ We are doing as much as we can.

_ I know Sam, it wasn't a criticism. Still, you should let Dean go on with his plan. Well, your plan. I understand your worries, but it will be ok Sam. I'll make sure of it.

_ How? Have you any idea of the nightmares he's still having? Most of the time, I can't even wake him up from them.

_ He did spent more time down there than on Earth, from his point of view. His soul is much older than he looks. And you are the one who can help him deal with it. I was merely speaking about make sure the demon you will catch wouldn't be able to escape or do any of you harm.

That felt like defeat. Sam didn't mind too much surrender to the archangel, but this was about Dean there.

_ If things turn sour, I'll kill it in the minute. No second try.

_ That's a deal.

They spent the way back with Gabriel making Sam both salivate and turn green with recipes from around the world and through the centuries. And the hundred way to accommodate oysters. Really, who could eat those squishy things. That was disgusting.

_ Try first. It's really good, full of good stuff for that big body of yours, and said to be aphrodisiac.

_ Like I need _that_.

_ One never know when they need that." Gabriel leered with a sly grin.

Sam sighted and pulled over. That was enough.

_ Gabriel. Look, I understand you're lonely, and for whatever reason you took a shine on me. But I... I'm not going to be some fuck toy or pet boy to you. I'm _not_. So please stop it. _Now_.

The intensity in those eyes, closing in on him. Gabriel's hands on his cheeks, the soft kiss he placed on his lips, never breaking eye contact. Sweet and slow.

_ Do I really look like I just want your ass Sam?

_ I... I don't know. You said it yourself, humans...they are nothing compared to what your are.

_ Don't misinterpret me Sam. I meant your awareness of the world around you is extremely limited compared to ours. But you are so much more than us. Your limits, they make you special, always fighting against it, always trying to get better. You, Sam Winchester, are precious.

And kissed him again, still slowly, a bit more deeply. Strangely, it felt... right. It was Sam who initiated the third kiss, deeply. His finger carding through the soft blond hair. God, a few thousand years of hedonism had its perks: the guy knew how to kiss.

Soon the angel was on his lap, the driver seat pushed back to get more room. Sam's hands roaming his smaller body. And at least there was some meat over those bones. Gabriel was not really plump, there was muscle to grab and grope, just soft enough to dig voluptuously his fingers in, melt against his chest.

He pulled away before things would get... too much, his lower part was still quiet sore from Dean's wake-up.

_ The things you're doing to me kiddo.

That must be the second time Gabriel was being utterly honest with him. Nothing like some good snog to turn a brain into mush. Gabriel smelled like petrichor, sunbathed sand and something spicy. He could snuggle with such a scented one all day.

He let his head fall back on the head rest.

_ Is that an invitation?

_ Dean's gonna kill me.

_ Because you're cheating on him?

Sam frowned but couldn't muster more annoyance than that right now.

_ _Because_ , he's not very keen on me making out with non-human beings.

_ And... if I tell you I kind of... got his blessing already.

Sam blinked. That was ridiculous.

_ You what? Asked him my hand or something?

_ Well... my little Samsquatch, whether you accept it or not, you and Dean are... 'bonded' for lack of a better word. In fact I do have another one, two, one you resist, the other... I can't use yet. I do need his consent to let's say 'court' you.

_ That makes no sense.

He could see his stubbornness was starting to exasperate Gabriel, but truly he couldn't wrap his mind around that. Luckily, something distracted the blond still sitting on his lap, a Cheshire's smile on his face, evil glint in his eyes.

* * *

One down...


	13. Chapter 13 - La Vie est Belle

**La Vie est Belle - Indochine**

(Life is Beautiful)

* * *

Lips against lips, he felt the angel's body melt under his hands. When Sam opened his eyes, a tall, lean, almost skinny, red haired woman was digging her bones in his thighs. She had vivid eyes heavily smoked and a dress who's décolleté was letting not much to the imagination.

Not that there was much to imagine, she was all bones. And sensual in a strange way. The way she moved maybe : both sinuous and feral, no bra. Sam wondered if she had panties.

She winked at him, playful smile on her lips and rolled down window. That was when he noticed the car behind theirs, and the sheriff coming toward them. Of course... no parking on the side way. She leaned over the opened window, allowing Sam to count her vertebra: the dress was even more widely open behind than in the front.

Playfully he circled her waist with his hands, and laughed : he could fit two of her.

She flicked his ribs.

_ Pay attention.

_ I do.

She rolled her eyes and focused on the sheriff.

_ Everythin' allrigh' there?

The guy could be around forty, and puffed up with self-importance. So many dudes who thought having a gun made them men. Sometimes he wondered whether the fact he could snap the man's neck even before he could draw his surrogate penis was funny or tragic.

_ It was. Until you showed up sir. Kind of busy.

Gabriel new persona's voice was low and heavy, the kind you wouldn't know if male or female on the phone. Her smile was lascivious, she was peering at him from under her eyelashes. The man swallowed heavily.

_ You can't do that there. Should go back to your seat and move over.

She laughed, a deep laugh, and shrugged suggestively.

_ I could, but... It might be inconvenient right now.

She dropped her gaze on their joined lap, covered by her dress. The interested look the man gave in the same direction made what was left of his boner die quite nicely. And his still sore balls to shrivel.

The playful tone lowered to dangerous.

_ So, big boys _do_ interest you too.

The guy reared back, flushed and distraught.

_ I... what are you talkin'about.

_ That you should stick to grown men instead of playing hands with your 15 years old son best friend.

Sam felt something dark and vicious coil into his guts, as dark as Gabriel's gaze. Maybe he could snap the man's neck after all.

_ And If you "really love him", you might want to wait until he's off age.

She lasciviously let a kiss on his cheek and leaned back on the wheel, slowly, revealing that their position wasn't as intimate as she let on. Hushing the guy out in the same motion.

_ What will happen if he doesn't stick to grown-ups?

_ Necrosis?

To Sam's relief, Gabriel was already back to himself, cocky grin and sparkling honey eyes.

_ Nice.

_ I get you're not fond of thin women?

_ There is a difference between thin and skinny.

_ Like curves? I thought it was your bother the one obsessed with big breasts.

_ I have big hands.

He simply answered, letting his hands run down Gabriel's spine to his round bottom. Making his eyes grow darker.

_ Sooo... why don't we just go back to where we stopped? I'm pretty sure it was about...

He moved forward, tempting, a hair away from his lips.

_...there...

Sam let the kiss happen, but pulled back soon. He smiled at Gabriel's pout.

_ Sorry, the guy kind of killed the mood. And, you wouldn't want the ice-cream to melt, would you?

The horrified look he got back made him laugh.

* * *

Dean climbed down to the basement, drinks in hand and got an overall look on Sam's work. Sure his brother always had a firm hand when it came to draw on floors and walls.

He was actually drawing squary things under Gabriel's supervision.

_ I brought some fuel for the workers." He put the bottles, beer for Sam, soda for the shortstop, and nodded toward the actual work. "What's this ? Doesn't look like any devil trap or protection I've ever seen.

_ Protection against angel's interference actually.

_ I guess we don't want anyone to open that door again.

_ No we don't." Deadpanned Gabriel. "Thanks for the drinks, no biscuits?

_ Nope. No biscuits, I'm not letting you fatten my brother up.

_ Don't worry about that. I can also make sure he is properly exercised too.

_ Gabriel!" Came the indignant and somewhat mortified yelp from Sam.

As if Dean didn't know, not only that they were 'dating' but also that they hadn't come to _that_ yet. He and Sam were still spending their nights together.

Sam was like a tropical fish in a coral reef, down in a moldy basement, preparing to summon a demon with the help of an archangel. Very different from when he found his brother in the kitchen a few days ago.

He had just finished with Baby and was heading for a long, hot, exquisite shower (not sleeping alone had some downsides, even if sleeping at all was the upside) when Jo, giggling like mad, pointed the kitchen to him.

The first thing he noticed was flour.

Flour almost everywhere: all over the table, in Sam's sloppy mop, on the floor, on Gabriel's butt; definitely not the size of the small angel's hands. The second was the disgruntled look on Sam's face and the empty, floured, bottle in his hand.

"What you think you're doing in there?

Sam had a very heated glare when he wanted to; if dough could be murdered...

"Trying to make a pie.

Dean had been impressed, and touched. But the sight was hilarious. When he got back from his shower, Sam had dropped the bottle and was simply flattening the dough directly into the pie dish with his fingers and palm. To be honest, even baked, it had looked like about anything but a pie. But Gabriel must have pulled a leg out or something, because it had been suspiciously edible, even good.

Still. Dean took over the kitchen after that disastrous episode. To realize with mild horror that the two bozzos had bought absolutely nothing ready-made. Except, obviously for Gabriel's snacks and ice-cream.

And _this_ , was the only reason he enlisted Jo's help to do the cooking.

And maybe because she had a massive crush on him and a nice little ass. Maybe.

Sometimes Dean thought about Lisa, and the boy she swore wasn't his. But he couldn't. There was no way he would have them bear the burden of a trauma paranoid guy with enemies as powerful as archangels or demons. At least, Jo was already deep into it.

Sam had already made it, quite painfully, clear that he was hell bent on Dean having someone other than him to hold onto were things going south.

Not a memory Dean wanted to recall right now, not a future he wanted to contemplate either. On the other hand, right now, his relationship with Sam, no matter how weird it was, was at its best since... years. And despite how strange the idea of his baby brother hooking up with the Lily Archangel, who told Saint Mary she was pregnant with the son of God, they looked happy together.

He would, just have to move on. Or at least try. Or pretend he had.

_ Dean!

The warning drew him out of his reverie a tad too late, he found himself sprayed with pink paint (last one of a long list of Gabriel's antics).

_ What the Hell dude?!

_ Stop brooding.

_ And you, Gabriel, stop spraying paint everywhere, it has been already long enough not to spoil my work now." Chided Sam with false anger.

He broke the pretense seconds later, bursting in laughter.

Of course. Dean spread his arms for them to admire the job.

_ Happy?

Sam got closer and tried to wipe some of the splashes on Dean's face.

_ Pink freckles so trendy. Makes you look cute.

_ And my shirt is ruined." Dean retorted in apparent dismay.

_ It's water paint, will get away with the next laundry.

_ By the way, Cass' back. So come upstairs when you're finished. And... erm... Gabriel, about getting him to pace himself. He doesn't listen when it's from me. You'll have to tell him yourself.

He was already halfway up the stairs when it came to his mind: "and no time to grope!"

_ I can grope your brother a million ways to Sunday and it would be only a second for you. Archangel remember?

Dean shrugged it off. There were things about his brother he didn't want to know. He already knew way too much. And still, sometimes, he couldn't get him.

On his way to the library where Cass and Bobby were waiting, the girls were on a salt and burn in Illinoi, he found another of those forsaken books Gabriel was disseminating in and around the house. Dean has made a habit to hunt them down and make sure Ellen or Jo wouldn't find them, or worse, read them. Bobby he knew wouldn't care to open them, only use them as fire combustible.

This one was "The Mystery spot".

Curious.

Coincidences didn't exist around an archangel.

He pocketed it, maybe to read. Maybe to light the barbecue. Why not both.

Hmmm... ribs and spiced sausages, with chips. And tomato salad with fresh basil for the health freak down there.

He schooled his features before entering the room, Hunter mood on.

Sadly, Castiel had not much to say, he has ruled out three more cities of the list, and wiped them of their demons despite Dean constantly reminding him that there were hunters to do that job.

Apparently the guy was hardwired to smite demons every time he found them. Lucky he managed to refrain from smiting Sam when he was on his bad trip.

_ I... might have found something.

it was Sam, hunched over his laptop, checking Donna's site.

_ You wait for a Bristol boy?

Dean chuckled, unsurprisingly Sam refrained to answer that, despite the bitchface.

_ Carthage, Missouri, barely a city, but the omens keeps on piling up, and the missing reports too.

_ There is not that many." Commented Dean looking over his shoulder.

_ This is more the sudden rise than the actual number that strikes me.

_ I've seen something on Carthage, there.

Bobby fished an old book (come on, as if there were any recent one in here) and flipped through it. There had been a gory battle on Carthage grounds, during the Secession war. So gory it had been called The Battle of Hell.

_ Worth the shot. And I'm tired of doing nothing there.

_ Not so fast hotshot. You still have something planed for tonight.

Dean huffed. Right. But the paintings in the basement wouldn't go away. There were people dying out there, or officially "missing". They all knew what laid behind that word.

_ I'm going there, now. Meg can wait.

_ Meg's Azazel daughter, high rank and powerful. I'd rather have her trapped here than risk facing her on a hunt. And if it's the place Lucifer's gonna summon Death, she will probably be there too. And who knows how many back-up.

Dean turned toward Sam, disbelieving and angry.

_ There are people _dying_ Sam! While we stay there all warm and cozy!

_ And there will be more if we fail! Rushing head first every time we find some strand of lead is what brought us there in the first place Dean.

_ Fine, stay there if you want to. I am going!

Unbelievable! How dare he!

Dean stormed out of the house in fury. To come back an instant later, more pissed than ever.

_ What did you do with my car?!" He shouted in Gabriel's direction. "I swear to you if anything happens to her!

He felt something soft and warm against his leg. Looked down and jumped in fright.

_ What the Hell!

There was a huge, like _very_ huge, black cat nuzzling his calf. He immediately drew his gun to point it toward the beast.

_ Hey, put that back !

Sam got himself between him and the jumbo cat, putting his arms around the beast neck, scratching it behind the ears. Believe it or not, the feline purred and nuzzled him before taking interest in Dean's jeans once more.

_ What the Hell dude?

His baby brother shot him that not really apologetic smile he had sometimes.

_ No. You don't tell me...

He looked down to the black... thing chewing on his jeans.

_ You must be kidding! That big cat's my Baby?

This time, he sounded more bewildered than angry.

_ It's a panther Dean.

_ What I said: a big cat.

He crouched before the... damn, Baby.

_ Hey, beautiful, is that you?

She purred and bumped her head on his chest in answer. Amazing. And she didn't even triggered his cat allergy. Her fur was rough under his fingers, all hard compact muscles. He vaguely registered that Sam has withdrawn, out of his sight.

Better be, Dean was still pissed at his defection, and Gabriel better be able to give him his four wheeled Baby back exactly how it was.

_ Please, don't insult me." came the bored retort.

_ Nice trick you got there Feathers. And for the record, I agree with those two Dean: better get prepared and wait for the girls to come back before diving into that one.

_ Come on Bobby, for all we know, it might as well be a bust like the twenty others.

_ He didn't ask you to be cautious, or try to stop you going to the twenty other cities we checked.

Bobby nodded toward Gabriel, who pretended to be engrossed with Sam's cleavage. Or maybe he was; Sam's V-necks looked good on him.

_ I like that man. He's clever." He did comment offhandedly. "More than those two combined.

That earned him disgruntled look from Sam, almost a pout.

_ Oh, they _are_ clever," Bobby went to their rescue "when they want.

Or not.

_You know what we say about youngsters: they always think they are right and know everything, so no need to be smart.

This time it was Dean's turn to feel a little betrayed.

_ Talk about our fledglings! Because they are supposed to carry dad's will, they think they cannot be wrong. Righteousness is a very dangerous thing.

_ Kids." They echoed like two gramps.

_ Should I feel concerned with that statement?

That one was from Cass who, until then, had been so quiet Dean almost forgot he was still there. He looked a bit offended to be put in the same basket as the Winchester brothers. Well, for that, too bad for him.

_ Yes you are." Answered Bobby without batting an eye. "Been days we told you to get easy and let hunters do the cleaning and you won't listen. You're precious idjit, and your mojo might come handy if this one goes AWOL. But only if you keep some in store.

Dean heaved a sight at the look Cass threw in his direction. Yes he did say otherwise.

_ Cass.

This was Sam, stepping in what was more and more looking like the start of a fight.

_ Have you ever seen Dean or I waste our ammo shooting on coyotes just before a hunt, knowing we won't find a shop to buy more?

_ Hum... I guess no.

_ Then you got it.

It did take Cass a moment to truly get it. Guess it wasn't easy to consider something that was a part of oneself as a limited resource.

_ So, to get it straight: we wait for the girls, go to Carthage in a _scout_ mission. If it's our place, we _draw back_ and set the plan in motion.

_ And if it's not, we wipe those son of bitches out.

He turned toward the warmth pushing at his hand. Yep, Baby was still very... breathing. Still as disturbingly alive.

_ I'll turn her back, if I can be sure you won't bail tonight.

Dean hesitated, he was growing fond of the big cat. But he would need his car too.

_ Ok. Do it.

It would be difficult to hide what was Gabriel if they let his creations roam free around. One pat later, the black beast leaped toward the yard. When Dean followed, Baby's hood was again where he had left it.

* * *

g'night.


	14. Chapter 14 - Un autre Monde

**Un autre monde - Téléphone**

(Another World)

* * *

About an hour later, Dean, Sam, Castiel and Bobby were gathered in the living room ready to pull the summoning out. Bowl full of weird things, check; lighter, check; demon trap, check; Gabriel watching over from afar, let's say check too.

After a nod from each of them, weapons ready, just in case, Bobby lit the bowl in.

Nothing happened.

Minutes ticked. Still nothing. Dean started to fret: has anything gone wrong? Sam was seated on the desk he was leaning against, his knee digging in his thigh was barely enough to keep him from bolting.

It was merely preventing him from doing anything rash. Wouldn't stand long, the wait was getting on his nerves. He was about to snap when the house's front door opened theatrically (not as good as Cass' entrance) and a small brunette sauntered through.

_ Winchesters, Honorary Winchester, and their pet angel, you really have a bad timing. I'm busy you know.

She skillfully skipped through every trap they had laid between the entry and their positions.

_ I should say thank-you to give me your lair's address. Doesn't seem too cozy though.

_ Don't worry, you'll get your own room." Dean's gravelly voice was almost cheerful.

 _Give a boy a toy..._

She laughed. Careless.

_ Thank-you, but I'll pass. And you haven't been able to trap me yet.

_ Oh... you sure? Ok, you can go then." Sam added flippantly.

Her smile faded slowly when she realized she couldn't get away, or pull some of her demonic magic.

_ Well... looks like I wasn't as careful as I though. How did you?

She was curiously testing her boundaries by wandering in the place, absolutely unbothered.

_ Think bigger." Sam teased her before nodding toward Cass. The angel stepped forward and knocked her out in a second. Then Sam lifted her on his shoulder to carry her downstairs, followed by the party. No need to let her discover the true limits of the trap.

Gabriel was already waiting for them, seated on a barrel, making a show of dusting his jacket.

_ Good on your side boys?

_ Cass did all the job. And you?

_ Just a couple Hounds. Nothing much.

Dean shuddered.

The heavy iron door closed on Megs limp form, loudly. Sam was glad he hadn't had to go in that room to do the painting, bad memories.

_ How long before she wakes up?

Gabriel landed a butterfly kiss on Sam's lips before going back outside, no need to take the risk of her finding out how many help the boys had.

_ A few minutes I guess.

_ Ok. Everything's ready?

_ Yup." Sam answered while plugging the tape player. Then he turned it on and adjusted te volume.

_ Plan to kill me with loud crappy music?

_ Something like that." He stopped the play. "You don't like country music I get. Dean neither.

_ I don't really like having anything in common with that bitch.

_ You can always start listening to country then.

He got a nasty glare for his trouble. Really, it was fun to wind up his brother. Even if a tad too easy.

_ You do realize holding me there won't change a thing? Our Lord will win anyway.

_ And then?

Surprisingly, that one came from Cass. He was still standing in the middle of the room; meaning as close to the panic room as the sigils allowed.

_ We are going to Heaven Clarence.

_ Heaven?" That was precious. "From what I've heard, Heaven is quite overrated.

Sam leaned forward.

_ And... who says it'll stay light and airy when your slimy friends will invade it? Unless you just want to expend Hell? Getting a bit crowded down there? Too many deals maybe...

She snarled in answer.

_ Why don't you ask that pretty brother of yours?

He snarled back, wanting to open that damn door and punch her. Bobby threw an arm in his way.

_ We have better things to do than banter right now.

Sam glared at the demon for a little longer before relenting and get his phone out. Dean made himself cozy on a stool he found nearby, Bobby'd rather stand now that he could again. Cass, being Cass was unmovable.

He set his phone's play on it's lowest volume and started it, covered by the loud music. The first try did not much. He set the volume up a notch before playing it again. The question being: if the exorcism could work when inaudible by humans and covered by other noises.

_ Plan to bore me to death boys? Not that seeing your pretty faces isn't sweet and all...

Sam put the volume up a notch. Apparently it was working. Even straining his ears to the play, he couldn't ear his recorded voice. But Meg was apparently experiencing some discomfort.

_ Guys, what are you waiting for exactly?

There was less bravado in her voice, maybe even a tinge of worry. He smirked and put the volume up. That time, she started to squirm; the following, he stopped the spell just before the last word. No need to send her back to Hell and snitch their plan. And, who knows, they might get something useful from her.

So... It worked. Good to know.

_ Well. I think it's time to eat. Tonight it's Barbecue!

_ It's almost always time to eat for you Dean.

_ Old habits die hard." He shrugged off. "Cass, you sure you don't mind keeping a eye on our guest?

_ I would have rather kept searching for Father. Apparently it's pointless. So I could as well do something useful.

_ No need to hold back on the sarcasm dude.

_ I wasn't...

Sam could see Bobby give a pat on the angel's shoulder.

_ Don't mind him, must be on his period.

_ Men do not have periods.

_ Don't be so factual Cass. You know what I mean.

They were out of Sam's sight, but he could swear he heard the trench coat shuffle awkwardly, and Meg's cackle behind.

Upstairs he was greeted by a somewhat shaky Dean, already focused on the pickled meat he wanted to grill. Was told to prepare some tomato salad with clipped words.

_ Listen. I'm sorry.

That made Dean stop in his track.

_ For what?

_ I shouldn't have riled her up.

_ Not your fault. Now, if you're finished I'll need coal for the grill.

_ Dean...

_ Not now Sam. The coal.

Sam sighed, and went to the barn to retrieve the bag. He met Gabriel on the way.

_ Went well?... Hum, by your look I would say not that well.

_ It did. Quite well, until I opened it a bit too wide and it fired back on Dean.

_ He will be alright.

_ When was the last time he has been alright?

_ Touché. Cass sounds a bit disgruntled though.

_ You are talking to him right now?

_ Yup, manufactured our own private 'angel radio'.

Sam picked up what was needed and headed back.

_ Good, don't know how a few days last for a million year old being, but it should be better with some company. Good work with wiring the yard as a devil trap, would have taken much longer without your help.

_ Young ladies have good ideas sometimes. Still don't mean I like her.

Sam rolled his eyes, sometimes he didn't really understood Gabriel's train of though.

...

Most of the time in fact. But on that one... Shouldn't he be glad that Dean wasn't monopolizing Sam? Unless he was picturing Dean with someone else? Still, that was to be Dean's choice which woman he wanted.

_ Woman...

_ Dean's not like me Gab, 'exotic' is not his forte.

_ You find littl'old me exotic?

_ Things you do are very much exotic.

That brought an ecstatic grin on the blonde's face, who grabbed him and pulled him through a very exotic kiss that left Sam pretty breathless by the time he got released.

_ Like that.

_ I can do a lot more." Gabriel drawled behind him, most certainly ogling his bottom.

_ Later.

_ You'd better hold onto that one kiddo.

This time it was Sam who landed a quick kiss on that grin. Then started to prep the grill. Gabriel, as usual, spread himself on the hood of the nearest car. Last time Sam asked about that habit, the only reply was "photosynthesis". Didn't try again.

Honestly, he didn't really know where this was coming. That... _thing_ between them. He had been so mad at the Trickster for so long, still haven't forgiven him fully. But since Gabriel joined them, thing were different. He felt... at ease with him. No need to try to be something else, no need to hide. It felt good. He felt good with Gabriel, even the beast inside him was quieter.

And the fact that the little bugger knew his way around when it came to snogging, and many other things, wasn't making it hard.

... Wrong choice of word he amended hearing some snickering.

_ Dean. Grill's ready!

* * *

And... here she comes. Who doesn't like Meg anyway. :)

Also, almost running out of spare chapters.


	15. Chapter 15 - Boule de Flipper

**Boule de Flipper - Corynne Charby**

(Pinball)

* * *

The diner had been good, Dean was secretly quite proud of it, but tense. The girls were supposed to come back the next day, and they were already planning their trip to Carthage. Or, better say pull together the list of things they will have to check/search/prep. To adjust The Plan to the town's specifics.

It still hasn't been enough to shake off the slimy feeling he got since their encounter with the bitch downstairs. Washing the dish wasn't enough to wash off the blood he could still feel on his hands.

Except that it wasn't on his hands. It was his soul that has been tainted, by every wound, every slash, every spark of pain he has inflicted on others.

That was pretty obvious: Dean wouldn't sleep tonight. And the old scotch he knew Bobby was hiding behind his Greek books was getting more and more tempting.

He stopped dead an inch before sending the extended mug flying into it bearer's face. Gabriel. Always where he wasn't expected.

And... this was a mug of...

_ Hot chocolate with _out_ marshmallow?

The angel's face scrunched up in a haughtily disgusted face.

_ Barbarian. Try it before complaining.

Dean took the offered mug with the appropriate gratitude and tasted it.

It was... rich... thick... heavily flavored, and surprisingly unsweetened. Bitter cocoa, spices, cinnamon, ginger and... clove? The mug was finished before he knew. And, he felt better. In a fit of regression he licked the rim to get the last drops.

_ I can give you the recipe you know? No need to try and figure it out. Try to just enjoy that one.

And just like that, the mug was full again.

_ Want another for your brother?

_ You can offer him one, I don't think I'm gonna sleep tonight. You got the room for yourselves.

_ I'll go tell him not to wait for you, but I won't stay." Dean made a noncommittal noise, he was pretty sure they were there now, or very close to it.

_ Where...

Gabriel looked strangely nervous. Dean decided not to push.

_ Be safe.

_ Will do." with a wry smile.

Gabriel headed toward the stairs, Dean the living room. He took the laptop with him and slouched into the couch. Belt gone, first button opened, relaxed. Or as much as he could muster with the upcoming events. And except for the annoying thing poking at his lower back. Passing a hand behind the cushion he found a book.

No. The book he had pocketed earlier and thrown out of sight at first occasion. He dropped it on the floor nearby and opened the laptop. Nothing gets the time to pass faster that the internet.

He started with Donna's site, just in case, since Sam had been on it a few hours ago. And as expected, there were no much news. He browsed a thing or two; idle, while enjoying his hot chocolate as requested.

Tried some porn, just because. But he was definitely not in the mood. Wondered whether Gabriel was still with Sam at the moment. Opened a link about gay sex, out of curiosity.

Closed it back before it even had loaded anything. Wondered if Gabriel would turn woman if/when they will step up. Has Sam ever been with a man before?

Not that he knew of, but there was a four years gap in Sam's life for Dean. He knew almost nothing about his time in Stanford. Has he been smoking? Done weed? Went to sorority parties and played beer pong? Where and how did he meet Jessica?

When he has crashed back in his brother's life, desperate to find help and their father, he hasn't even stopped to ask. How well were Sam's studies? How promising as a lawyer?

Imagine : Sam Winchester Attorney at Law. Or why not Judge? Something like that. Big house, fancy car. Golf?

Sam with a pony tail under one of those weird caps, crazy colorful shirt on a golf course with equally ridiculous meds, lawyers and rich bastards. That would be a sight.

Too bad, one night his lousy big brother came by, and messed his life up once again.

How many friends has he left behind him, without notice?

"Dean, I don't care who, I don't care what place you're gonna give them in your life. But you need, no, _I_ need you to find someone you could live for. Someone other than me."

Dean closed the laptop, useless, and put it on the floor. It slid a bit.

...

Oh, yes, the book.

"I've watched you die, I've watched you throw your life away, I had to bury you and put your guts back into your body _many_ too many times. I am not gonna have more of your deaths on my conscience! Just because you can't take the chance outliving me."

He turned the TV on, sound down, and started to zap through the channels. Not much to watch at this time of the night. Penguin's boring wild life, sad news from around the world, even sadder TV shows. How low could people go to get their face on a screen and their minute of 'glory'? Some were even lamer than those Gabriel had put them through. Mud bath and Scorpio snacks? Really? Cooking channel had him for a while; in the end, he found cooking almost as relaxing as mechanic. With the added benefit of rejoiced faces when the dish was good.

More stupidities, an anime channel, Escaflowne, already seen, twice. Thelma and Louise.

A True Classic.

He let it on. Watched it on and off, in between two resting shut eye. Shut the TV before the end and let the remote slide down, on the tilted laptop, then the floor.

Damn book.

"My only wish Dean, is for you to get a life. A real life: painted house in a nice suburb, white piquet fence, Sunday barbecue, 2.6 kids, the damn whole shebang."

Sam hadn't answered when asked where he pictured himself in this apple pie life. That's when Dean walked away.

He got up, brought the laptop back on the table, went to the loo, made a short walk outside. It was cloudy, not a star gazing night. Poured himself a glass of water, drank it and went back to the couch. Walked on the book hidden by the shirt he had shed at one point, keeping the tee on.

At last, Dean picked up the damn thing.

Sam's own personal deadly Groundhog Day. Custom made by Gabriel Archangel himself. Who confessed Dean having gone way further than he ever wanted to. Dean couldn't help but wonder.

He started to read. Tried to tell himself it was mostly because he had nothing else to do.

It started about funny; the Trickster had quite an imagination to kill him in the most ridiculous ways possible. He would need to talk to Chuck though; he did make him look like an utter moron. "Did I look cool like in the movie?"

Who would say that about their own death?

As the pages went by, his attention shifted, from the weird ways he died to Sam's reaction to it. Not once, he let go, not one day he decided he had enough and stopped trying, to save him. Growing more and more desperate to find a way out. He never grew accustomed to losing him.

Relentless. And pissed.

He shuddered when he died from an axe held by Sam. That one must have hit hard.

Dean frowned. He remembered that, the pancake thing, strawberry sauce, busting the trickster. He had only read a little more than half of the book. Did Chuck stow two cases in one single volume?

Wednesday morning, 'not Asia' (now he understood that one), shower, pack up the car... His gut lurched: hadn't Sam insisted not to let Dean go out without him?

And he didn't remember that weirdo either.

Dean literally jumped when the guy pulled a revolver out and killed him. Threw the book away in the same motion.

_ What the Hell?...

Seriously. What. The. Hell?! Sam never told him he also died on Wednesdays, that the Trickster had given Sam hope it was over, just to snatch him back again. That was sick!

How could Sam stand to stay in the same room as Gabriel?

He picked the book back. Not sure whether he wanted to keep on reading or not. He almost prayed alongside BookSam for him to wake up again, to go on as those endless Tuesdays. Sam did not wake up. BookDean stayed dead this time.

And Dean followed BookSam down to his Hell, stomach in a knot. It was like those 'the minute before' videos, you know it will end badly, you see it coming, and yet you can't look away.

He couldn't look away, as BookSam shunned out everyone around him, spiraled down a path of war, slaughter, and the morbid obsession with finding the Trickster who took his brother away before time.

It was a Sam Dean did not recognize, cold, mechanic, heartless. It was a Sam too close to their father for Dean's comfort. He had been more alive when snogging Ruby. Dare he say Sam has been more _human_ when high on demon blood than... this?

Strangely, to Dean the most telling thing was the sudden increase of OCD like behavior. Because Sam always had them, more or less toned down, the working out, the obsession with his food, his disgusting cleanness.

Coping methods, against his own blood, that self-destroying rage inside him. To keep going. Meaning that Sam _always_ had to struggle against his own self; much more than he ever let out. It was just worse when Dean wasn't around.

 _"That's what keeps us human."_

Dean was afraid to keep reading. Afraid of discovering how worse was the end of it all. Which bottom Sam could have reached to convince, or coerce, Gabriel to let go.

He had to get some fresh air. There were about a dozen pages left; they felt as reachable as the other side of the moon. Still hidden by the clouds. The night was chill, Baby still there, he couldn't believe Gabriel had the balls to turn her. She did make a beautiful cat, though, who knew who her master was.

He let his hand slide along the sleek cold frame. His little trip back in time has been a catastrophe; he wondered even if it wasn't what started it all: the Campbell involvement in the search for Yellow Eyes, John's death, Mary's deal, and Sam...

The only undisputable good outcome of that was her. Otherwise, they would have lived in Scooby-doo Mystery machine.

Or in a nice house in Kansas.

What was done, was done. Dwelling on it would be a waste of time anyway. They had to move forward.

Dean went back, he had a story to finish.

It was sad that the only way Bobby managed to reach Sam was when telling him he had a way to find his target. Even sadder that Sam was _willing_ to throttle an innocent person to get to the Trickster.

Sam was always all for saving everyone, there... he was beyond reason.

His stomach rebelled when BookSam plunged his knife into Bobby's body: "You're not Bobby". Except that he wasn't sure. Except that, seconds later, Sam broke down; a wreck of grief and snotty, tears stricken face.

Sam's ruthlessness and anger had reached their limits. Dean heaved a breath, realizing that there _was_ a limit to that madness was liberating. In between those lines, he has met a Sam he never imagined. But at least, at the very least, his baby brother was still there, has always been there, hidden under the rage and grief, and blood-lust. His baby brother was just waiting for the anger to crumble and finally give him back his rightful place, at the forefront of their personality.

The few last pages were just anecdotic to Dean. They just told him it was finally, utterly, over.

And he was...

... a mess.

He could understand why Gabriel had let go in the end. He could understand Sam having the idea to try to get the Trickster to help, he was damn strong, "If it doesn't work, we kill him".

He wasn't sure he understood what could have pushed Sam to go back. How could he make out with a being who tortured him like that?

_ Dean?

Dean looked-up, startled. Cass, all ruffled hair and crippled trench coat was standing in the doorway, blue eyes boring into his skull.

_ Hi Cass. How's the guest?

_ She is currently tearing apart the mattress you gave her.

_ No springs in it?

_ Entirely foam. No harm can be done.

_ Good." Cass shifted, obviously wanting to say something, mean: he came upstairs for something, right? "Come here, spit it out.

The angel looked at the floor, puzzled.

_ It would be... inappropriate.

Dean huffed a laugh.

_ I _meant:_ tell me what's on your mind.

Castiel nodded and came forward; Dean seated up and folded his legs to give him some place at the other end of the couch. Cass sat and folded his coat over his knees.

_ Why don't you claim your mate?

Dean raised hi eyebrows, high. He hadn't known what to expect from the angel but certainly not that. Where the hell that was coming from?

_ What?

Cass backpedaled.

_ I apologize, I felt you were quite distraught, about Sam and Gabriel. I surmised it was because Gabriel has been in your room with your mate, and you are still here. Was I wrong?

_ Yeah. I don't mind about Sam and Gabriel. Your brother even asked me before... making a move on Sam.

_ But... Sam _is_ your mate.

_ Was my _brother_ first Cass. I don't know how different the meaning is up there, but siblings are not supposed to sleep together. Besides, we are both male.

_ I could give you a long list of men or siblings..." he trailed off seeing Dean's expression.

He could do with a drink right now.

_ It is not about morals." Concluded Cass softly.

_ I can't. I just can't... imagine. And he doesn't want it either.

_ I... I must apologize.

_ For what?

_ I might have... made a mistake. When I went to fetch you, in Hell, at first, you resisted following me. For two reasons mostly. The first one was that you wanted me to bring back another soul alongside, a woman you called Bella. The second was... because you felt like you couldn't face your brother again after... what they did to you. So I... erased those memories from your mind.

_ My memories of meeting Bella down there and... what exactly?

Will this Hellish night ever stop?

_ Them, torturing you with the only thing that could have ever made you break down and take the knife: your love for your brother.

Dean felt sick. The yard was closer than the loo. And the early hours of the morning fresh air was very welcome.

_ I probably should have been less blunt.

Cass was handing him a beer bottle he took thankfully. Not the night to stay sober. Dean rinsed his mouth, spit the first mouthful and gulped half the bottle, before going a little further, away from the stench, and sat on Baby's hood. The cold metal, the familiar shape slowly settling him down. The east sky was already lightening up.

_ It's ok. Or it will be. In fact, it's almost reassuring to know this... was memories hastily erased than my sick brain going... worse.

Cass shifted besides him and nodded. In understanding or agreement... who knows?

Dean looked at him, square frame all stoic face, droopy blue eyes, aquiline nose against the blueish-rosy sky. And always the bed-hair.

"I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."

He rubbed his mark absentmindedly. How can someone have a tight grip with a hand in that position?

He blurted the question without even realizing it. There was, not exactly a smile, the ghost of a smile maybe on Castiel's lips. On his vessel's lips Dean tried to remind himself.

_ You want me to show you?

Dean gave a positive shrug and stood up when Cass did. He let Cass left hand come over the scar, it felt odd... some kind of fuzzy tingling, a bit like when Cass has healed him.

He watched warily as the Holy Tax Accountant circled him, hand still poised over his shoulder, until he was behind his back. Dean's shoulders against Cass', the angel's nose barely poking over. Cass right hand, weaponed, was sticking from under Dean's arm.

_ I wish I remembered.

Cass, no Jimmy's, black hair were tickling his cheek. He let go and came back facing Dean before answering.

_ You were yelling, kicking and trashing. Not very accommodating. It hasn't been...easy.

_ Sorry. Guess that's how I am: a difficult pain in the ass.

Cass tilted his head, probably trying to decipher the meaning behind the metaphor.

_ I mean: thank-you. For bringing me back topside, even if it's quite a mess up there too.

Cass nodded his agreement. Minutes ticked.

_ You should go back to Sam, get some rest.

_ I won't wake him up at this time.

_ He is not asleep Dean, he is waiting. For you.

Dean finished his beer, fiddled with the bottle, breathed, then got up. He pated Cass' shoulder and went upstairs. For the first time in ages, he stripped down fully, except for his panties, before snuggling under the covers.

Sam was freaking damn good at pretending he was asleep; if Cass hadn't assured him he was awake Dean would have been fooled. Probably had been a couple of time. But the hitch in Sam's breath when Dean literally wrapped himself over him wasn't faked.

It took a long time before Sam wrapped his arms around him, one large hand rubbing softly Dean's hair, comforting.

_ What have you done?

A soft whisper, barely audible, brushing his scalp.

_ Reading. Talking with Cass. Had a beer.

_ Not refreshing you Greek or learning how CroMagnon took over Neanderthal I guess.

_ The Mystery Spot, and why I don't remember Cass 'gripping me tight and raising me from perdition'.

He felt his brother take a deep breath under his ribs.

_ Gabriel's an effin' meddler.

_ At least now I understand, why you said that you would forget me if I die before you again. You didn't go downhill because of Ruby. Ruby happened because you were going downhill. Is... that why you want me away?

_ I don't want you away Dean. I love you, more than anything. And I know you, we are a lot alike: I know if I lose you again, I'll lose my head too. I also know if I die before you, you'll throw your life away, again. I can't let that happen.

_ Then you'd better not die Sam.

_ I don't plan to, and I'll never let Lucifer in. But we are at war with both Hell and Heaven, Dean. A war we can't afford to lose. Our odds have increased with Gabriel by our side, but we can't expect getting out of this without any casualties. And if it comes down to it, I'd rather me than you.

_ I hate you.

Sam's slow breath, his hand in his hair were calming, luring him to sleep. But as his wrecked emotions were settling, Dean became more and more aware of Sam's leg against his, his beating heart against his ribcage, the heat sweeping through Sam's clothes, his hipbone digging in Dean's waist.

Before he had time to start getting uncomfortable, Sam was releasing him, and gently pushing him on the side, one hand still on his head.

_ You... know.

_ Sometimes you mumble.

Dean closed his eyes, fighting tears; he was so fucking tired of all this shit.

_ Sam?

_ Hum?

_ Ever been with a guy before Gabe?

The silence stretched so long he doubted he would get a proper answer, even if the lack of denegation was one in itself.

_ One guy. In Stanford. His name was Oliver, blond, cute, a bit stock, blue eyes. It lasted about two, three weeks. Great sex, didn't want ties, neither did I. Then I met Jessica.

_ Great how?

_ Sleep Dean.

And Sam's hand on the nape of his neck, Sam's forehead against his, Dean dived blissfully into oblivion.

* * *

Some more brotherly hurt/comfort.

Because Na!

Next, Jo and Meg (not in the same room, i'm not yet to yuri; if i ever)


	16. Chapter 16 - Léa

**Léa - Louise Attaque**

(Dudes, it's just a name)

* * *

When he woke up, the clock on the bedside told him it was past midday. Sam was gone but some pancakes, fruits and a thermos with what must be coffee were on a tray next to him. Sleep-in and room service, he could get soft on it.

With some luck, today would be a less crappy day than the previous. He leaned against the headboard, put on a Tee, and dug with appetite into his breakfast. He wondered idly if he could stay holed-up there the whole day, get some rest put his head straight again.

He knew he didn't have that luxury.

He finished his meal and piled up the dishes. There was a note under the plate : "We leave at 5pm, 7 hours' drive, you get the first leg. Or maybe the whole. Rest."

He smirked at Sam's neat handwriting, put the tray on the floor and snuggled a bit into the pillows. It wouldn't last, duty was waiting. But if the doc' prescription was to rest, he might as well enjoy his quiet place a bit more.

Or not... a quiet knock broke the background noised silence of his hideout.

_ Hn?

The door cracked open, revealing Jo's blond braid and an eye.

_ May I?

He nodded and straightened up, becoming her to get in.

She sidestepped and closed softly the door behind her. He could see her curious look at the closed up beds, one untouched. He watched her seat on this one, crossed her legs under her and smoothen a wrinkle with the flat of her hand.

A wry smile spread on her lips. He wondered why she was there; not that he complained.

_ Isn't it a bit... annoying sometimes?

_ What?

_ Living with someone so... tidy.

Dean breathed internally; she was thinking she was on Sam's bed.

_ Well...yeah, mostly when he keeps on telling me to tidy up. But in the end he usually does it himself anyway.

He tried a cocky grin; she shot back one shy smile.

_ So... useful and annoying.

_ We all have annoying habits. If this" he gestured at the perfectly made bed and neatly piled clothes " is the way he found to get some control back in his life, I can deal with it.

She looked thoughtful for a while, then she leaned on her belly, making a point of messing the bedcover.

_ It's rare to hear you be serious;. Outside of a case I mean." She amended after a pause.

_ You don't like when I'm goofing.

She nodded then averted her eyes, onto the cover she was plucking with two fingers. Since she was obviously gathering her will to go to the point, he stayed silent. It usually worked with witnesses.

_ Sam's downstairs, watching over the demon female, apparently Loki has enlisted Castiel for stuff. Bobby and mom' are packing up the last things we might need.

That was still tiptoeing around the subject, but at least now Dean knew where she was getting: Sam's trustworthiness. They had more pressing matters to take care of than worrying about their image amongst the other hunters; they barely frayed with them anyway.

Maybe they should have bothered.

_ It was you, the breakfast.

_ If it's to complain about eggshells: no it's not. If it's for praises, yep I am.

_ It was good, and thoughtful. Thanks.

_ Sam said you haven't slept tonight. Wouldn't say more." One more pause, he didn't break this time. Then "Is it true?

_ I guess it depends on which rumor you're talking about.

_ Sam and demons.

Dean heaved a breath. No easy way out of it, hu...

_ Sam did hook up with a demon bitch: Ruby. When I was downstairs, it stayed a while after I came back too.

_ How could you be OK with that?

Her voice rose in indignation. Making Dean wince a little. She realized it and added an apologetic smile. It was annoying, Jo voicing those doubts toward his brother. A mere few days ago, days... _hours_ , he would probably have lashed out at her for daring voice his own though. Now he had a real answer.

_ Sam never stopped trying, to save me. I have been desperate and stupid; I made a deal with no way out. Sam had tried to get me out of it until the very end. And when he couldn't, he did whatever he could come up with to get me out of there. Even if it meant dealing with demons or risk going down himself.

He finished more harshly than intended, but he couldn't let anyone doubt Sam's motive to his face.

_ Or drinking demon blood..." And that did not come out as casual as she intended.

_ Whatever It Takes." He pummeled the words, looking hard into her eyes. "He's clean now, and we'll make damn sure he doesn't fall back into it, detox is hellish.

And damn he knew what he was talking about.

_ We?

_ Me, Sam, Bobby, Gabriel, whoever knows and cares about Sam.

_ You sure about Loki? Pagans eat humans. I can understand why you... accept to get past his misstep with that Ruby, but let Sam hook up with another monster...

_ In case you haven't noticed, Loki is vegetarian. Like all Tricksters, he only eats sweets, and the only animal stuff he does eat are Milk and Eggs in pancakes and biscuits.

He cocked his head, then added.

_ And gelatin sweets.

She still looked dubious.

_ We've both made bad calls, very bad ones, especially when left on our own. And there is one thing I know: getting Gabriel enrolled wasn't one of them.

_ So... you trust him.

Dean pondered it for a while.

_ Yeah. Well... not for everything. I trust him to take care of Sam, and to want as bad as us for the Apocalypse not to end up the way it's supposed to.

_ Because he wants to keep his playground?" She asked a bit haughtily, not toward Dean but she definitely had a thing against Gabe, like Gabe had a thing against her.

He decided to turn it into derision.

_ If by 'playground' you mean Sammy's ass. Yep.

She made a face "yuk".

_ How do you know he truly cares about your brother.

He liked Jo, honestly, but he was getting tired by all that nagging. He hoped that wasn't a secret to keep.

_ Because he pledged his life to Sam." He dropped, in a tone that clearly stated the subject was closed.

_ Oh..." Her tone softened, thoughtful.

Deciding the break would be a good time to put some jean's on, Dean got up and fetched the first pair he found. We he turned back he realized Jo had gotten quite an eyeful of his butt... and if he wasn't mistaken those (purple) panties had one nice hole waiting to be stitched back. Oups...

She was sporting a nice blush, eyes glued on the grim window.

_ Sorry 'bout that..." he mumbled awkwardly and busied himself with straightening up Sam's bed.

_ It's OK. I've seen worse. Growing up in a bar and all...

Yeah.. he could get that.

He sat back against the headboard. She was still belly sprawled over his bed, propped up on her elbows. From his point of view, that made for some beautiful curves. Even if she was a bit more skinny than his usual.

_ How is it? Growing in a bar. Plenty of lousy Hunters hanging out.

She looked amused and pleased. He liked that little glint in her eyes. He knew she had a crush on him, he also knew he had no chance with her.

_ Not that bad, half the guys, especially those who had known dad kept an eye on me like some bunch of aunties, the other half tried to hit on me. Until I kicked their ass.

He laughed softly at that.

_ You are one of the few who hit on me _after_ I kicked your ass.

_ Excuse me? You were the one who made the mistake to put your gun on my back and got disarmed for that.

_ And you were the one who made the mistake to underestimate me because I'm a girl, and got punched for that.

She looked indignant for a while longer until they both burst into giggles.

_ Dean Winchester, you are a moron by the way. Your brother too.

Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise, he was used to be called stupid, Sam a little less, but now? For what reason?

_ And I hate your father.

That one he already knew. Flabbergasted he voted for letting her keep on her track.

_ You said you do stupid things when on your own. And you mean when the other is not around; that's why I hate John: he raised you to believe there is no one else for you than each other. And you do believe it, whenever things get tough you shun everyone else out, clamp up like two half of an oyster and beware who tries to pry that open.

Dean could only blink, speechless.

_ But you never were on your own, you have Bobby, you have mom and me. People who would help and follow you anyway, anywhere.

It was terrific how she could both sound scolding and caring.

_ I should slap you, you know?" erm.. no please... "But I'll do that instead.

Before he knew, Dean had her lips pressed against his.

" _I can be many things, a friend, a brother, a ... child if necessary, a partner in many ways. But, Dean, there is_ one _thing I literally cannot be._ "

When she pulled back, he put a hand on the nap of her neck to keep the kiss going, softly.

SPNSPN

Sam was bit bored, and relieved.

Bored because watching over Meg whose only occupations were tell him how boring their stoic angel was, prattle about Lucifer grand scheme and tear apart the bedding, with surprisingly much noise for fabric tearing.

Relieved because her being so close wasn't doing anything to his... thirst. He could use a beer though.

To spend the time, he practiced drawing the sigils and spells Gab taught him the last few days on a notebook, then got a bunch of weapon to clean up thanks to Bobby : "Since you're not doing anything, get productive, son."

It was on one of her prattling phase, it... bubbled from the depth of his mind.

Greased cloth in one hand, a barrel in the other, he pointed at her.

_ You fancy yourself as a Lucifer Passionaria but...

He let the word hang into the dusty air until he knew she was hooked up.

_ When you possessed me, and tried to get Dean kill me. Where did that fit into the Great Plan where Lucifer uses me as his meatsuit? I mean... if I'm dead, I can't say the magic word. If Dean were mad at me enough to kill me, he wouldn't have made a deal to bring me back either.

He finished reassembling the gun with a satisfying metallic clank.

_ I can't see a way your actions fit with your bragging.

She cooed, a few years ago he would have gagged at this, and leaned as near to the gate she could, a smile on her face. It was a strange sight, it was the exact same smile she had first time he met her, in the wrong face. Though, he did notice the small beat she missed before answering, the stalling.

_ Maybe you are just not that smart then.

Yeah... Maybe. Still not convinced.

He placed the gun back into the bag and drew Dean's machete. Slowly, he started to clean it up. It was much safer to try to rile her up when Dean wasn't around to get backfired on.

_ And you are so smart you got trapped here.

_ Don't be cocky pretty boy, who knows, I might be exactly where He wants me to be.

_ Sure, count on that.

Once the traces of blood and body parts gone, he started on getting rid of the rust.

_ Anyway, whatever Grand Plan you might have had or not; there no way to know what would have happened if you succeeded in making Dean kill me.

Apparently, that gave her some thinking to do. Good, that's what he wanted.

_ So... where you going? Will my chatty guardian come back or will you get stuck with me while the grown-ups go have fun?

_ Louisiana, Nouvelle Orléans. Enjoy the Carnival. And of course, you're welcomed to join.

She literally snarled when she realized he was making fun of her.

_ Unbecoming of a Lady, Meg.

The blade was cleansed from the rust; he got up to get some water from the sink. Time to sharpen that thing, It always tended to dent when meeting wood or bones, and Dean was much less careful with his toys than his Baby.

_ Are you even female? Or you just like their soft edge to walk around?

_ They scream nicely." Of course, she would go for the most aggravating answer. "And guys tend to be nicer, punch less hard when they see a girl.

_ I'll keep that in mind next time I feel like punching some demon bitch.

_ Smooth talker, I might start to like you again.

_ I was looking forward to that, you have no idea.

Dude, that gal was so damn chatty... was she like that first time they met? He must have felt very lonely at the time to let _her_ smooth talk him.

_ I'm not curvy enough for you? I heard you liked brunet 'demon bitch'.

_ Actually I'm more into blond pagan dude in case you haven't realized yet.

She glared a bit. Then retreated into the depth of her cell. The tearing noise started again. He toyed with the idea of putting some music on to drown the annoying noise, then dropped the idea.

_ She's still in there, the true owner of this body.

Sam had the time to finish the machete, two more knives and one sawn-off in relative silence, before she started to speak again.

_ Yeah. Unlike the other, she's quite a naughty girl herself. The name's Raquel. Want to meet?

_ I'd love to.

She skipped another beat. She probably though he would shy away. Actually, he didn't feel that confident, he could still remember a bit too vividly the terrified soul trapped into the demon he had been planning to drain. He _did_ drain.

Even through the small window it was easy to spot the change, the haggard look, a slump of the shoulders.

_ Hi. My name's Sam.

_ I know, I... she let me see, and hear...

_ I'm sorry about what happened to you." She shrugged, defeated. She didn't have strength left to be angry or frightened. "I'm sorry, we can't repel her yet, but I need to know, how many injuries and how bad?

_ Why? She... never gets injured. And, it's a _she_ in case you really wanted to know.

_ Her power keeps your body free of injuries, but when we exorcise a demon, every injury sustained during... possession, comes back.

_ Don't bother then, I was dying when she took me. In a back alley, in a small town near Montrose. Bad luck with the guys.

He didn't know what to say to that.

_ What's there, after...?

_ Heaven or Hell. Depends...

_ How's Heaven?

_ I honestly don't know, if she agrees, you can ask the babe in trench coat, he's an angel.

_ Like... for real?" He nodded, that was the first spark of emotion she showed. "Not what I expected...

He couldn't agree more.

_ At least this one is friendly..." He drew closer, and brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek. " Raquel. I'm so sorry.

Swiftly, he put that hand behind her neck and scribbled a seal Gabriel came up with on her forehead. She slumped in his hand. He let her slide against the iron door. Now, they were both trapped inside their body, until the seal were to be swiped.

They couldn't afford to leave someone behind to watch over them, and couldn't risk them having any chance to get out.

Sam knocked at the door, a plate with two grilled cheese sandwich made by Ellen in hand. No answer, no sound either. He crossed his fingers in hope not to stumble upon something (once in a lifetime was enough) and opened the door.

Cute.

Both clothed, on the bedcover, Jo had an arm circling Dean's waist and was using his shoulder as pillow. Both fast asleep.

He took his phone and a picture.

_ Tell me you didn't take a pic.

_ I could. Would be a lie.

Dean has now an eye open, and spoke low. So did Sam, closing silently the door behind him. He gave a questioning look toward Jo. Dean nodded, she was really sleeping.

_ Ellen told be to bring you this." He put the plate on the bedside, near Dean who didn't dare move yet. Then let a smirk play on his lips. "So. Who did?

_ Shut-up.

Dean rolled his eyes, annoyingly and tried to swat his brother. Burdened like he was, Sam had no problem avoiding it.

_ She did. And don't say it! Don't.

 _I told you so._

He mouthed with exaggeration, amused.

_ We leave in twenty. I let you wake her.

He tiptoed downstairs. At last, there was one good thing in Dean's life.


	17. Chapter 17 - Je sais que c'est Elle

**Je sais que c'est elle - Julien Clerc**

(I know she's the One)

* * *

Sam heaved an enormous sighed, internally, upon see the sign indicating the Motel Ellen had chosen. It was really disturbing, traveling with Jo in the back seat, flirting with Dean, commenting on about everything, especially Gabriel.

Apparently, she hated silence.

7 hours...

It was 2 in the morning, couldn't she have slept? He sure hasn't been allowed. Just a couple hours would have been fine.

He called to go to the front desk, to get some fresh air, but she was already out, her pony tail swinging behind her. Dean's eyes glued just a tad lower. Bobby's truck was parked besides their car and Ellen followed her daughter.

The lot seemed... less dingy than their usual, just a little. Off the main road, little wooden cottages, the city was a few miles away from Carthage.

_ She annoys you. You almost literally pushed me into her arms, and she annoys you. Why?

_ Too tired to have that argument now Dean. And she doesn't really annoy me, just... I wish I could tell her who Gab' really is.

Sam saw the promised keys come back; a hot shower and a bed to crash, that was all he wished for at the moment.

_ Was it this weird when it was Gabriel in the back seat?

Dean couldn't help but laugh at his disgruntled tone.

_ Weirder : _you_ climbed back seat to hug your Teddy bear.

_ Would you believe me if I tell you I still don't know how _that_ happened?

Another laugh, yes Dean could believe that.

When Gabriel and Cass went to the Motel for the rendez-vous, the air felt weird. Dean-o was antsy, the Old Man and the Mom were dancing awkwardly around each other and the Girl was bitchy, as always.

Sam wasn't there.

Since no one was worried, his absence should be legit. Still, he dropped Castiel to tell the bunched up people in room 603 they were there and prepared. He flew by, scanning the streets in search for his Sasquatch.

Should have known he would find the Boy into a food delivery waiting to order. Humans and their weird habit of eating at given times of their day. _Routine_...

Boring.

To spice the game up, and surprise his promised, Gabriel decided to make some change.

When he entered the, not so dingy shop for once, it was a medium sized, slightly chubby, twenty-so, blond girl, with a cheeky smile, a college jumper and a plaid skirt who pushed the door. She got in the line, two people behind Sam and started to twirl a lock of her hair, popping bubbles.

She waited for Sam to start making his order to skip the line and give him a once over.

_ Hi Gorgeous. You mind buying me a drink for a kiss?

He glanced at her, barely for a second.

_ Yeah sure. Dude, add the most caries inducing stuff you got and whatever the girl is asking for.

Gabriel was speechless. Really ?! It was that easy to get a Sam Winchester when you are a human female? That was offensive. She ordered an almond-latte, no sugar.

Sam smiled more good naturedly she had ever seen him.

_ What she said, and please, get it first. I can wait for whatever remains.

_ You know..." She flashed what she knew didn't look like a fake smile because centuries of practice." It's quite surprising such a dashing guy being single.

She could hear three rats in the basement, bacon frying in a pan, the cook coughing in the soup and Sam's frigging calm heartbeat. He was cheating on her, damn! And he dared do so with no trace of shame or stress.

Suddenly, the prank wasn't that fun anymore.

_ I'm not, in fact. Single." He wasn't even looking at her, busy recovering her order.

_ And your girl don't mind you kissing strangers?

_ She's not my girl." He was holding the cup just shy of her reach. "She's my angel, and...

He leaned forward, close enough so his big pointy noise was ghosting over her cheek.

_ ... You're not a stranger.

And that bastard kissed her lightly before handing her the drink.

_ You knew.

Sam looked her weirdly for a while, undecipherable.

_ Thanks for the vote of confidence." He uttered testily and stepped away from her, waiting for his order.

Crap...

She added six sugars into her drink, it still tasted bitter. She had just wanted to surprise him. Humans...

Sam was starting the engine when he spoke up next. Gabriel was... _not_ sulking.

_ Sorry, I shouldn't have reacted that way.

_'t wasn't supposed to work that way either. You should not have recognized me right away, I would have given you hints, and you would be happy I came by.

_ I am. Really" He added at her dubious look. Didn't feel like changing back for the moment, and there was still the off chance someone who shouldn't see her transform.

_ How did you know? What busted me?

And if there was a hint of wounded pride in her tone, screw whoever brought it out.

Sam stopped at a red light and flipped the light to turn left.

_ I don't know, I just did.

No, no Gabriel was still not sulking, nor chewing on her hair. Oh... yes she did. The car prudently drove by a young couple with small kids, a dog-walker, bunch of peoples living their lives, unconscious that one of the most powerful beings on Earth was mere feet away.

A young guy, bad boy style, smiled and winked at her. He was a bit lame, that was cute.

_ You like her better?

Sam spared her a glance, just a second off the road.

Gabriel decided she didn't like much when her boy was driving. Share his attention with a band of lifeless asphalt.

_ What do you mean?

_ Last time you said you didn't like too thin girls. And this one?" She gestured at her figure.

_ What am I supposed to answer? You wanted to look cute, and you do. None of the outfit you wear is remotely like you really are. And all of them are.

He huffed in annoyance at his inability to make sense and visibly gathered his though before going on.

_ I do have some preferences about girls, or guys' appearance; but that's not the most important thing about someone, especially you. I can't even start to imagine what you really look like anyway, and will probably never get the chance to truly _see_ you.

That wasn't meant to, but still, that was touching. Gabriel has wondered for a while if Sam wouldn't sleep with him because he didn't fit his tastes. Maybe it was more complicated than that.

They spent the end of their small trip in comfortable silence.

_ Hey.

_ Yes?

_ Before we go into the lion's den," he nodded toward the motel room, "Do I need to know why your happy trigger brother is so restless, just in case I have to stay out of his line of fire.

Sam flashed his cute adorable dimples.

_ Ellen sneaked out her room to get to Bobby's last night. So Jo signaled Dean the green light.

_ Let me guess, he didn't take the bait, and she feels insulted.

_ Something like that.

_ Why, didn't he. You did text me they were a thing now.

_ First : nightmares. Two : it's the very first time he's aiming for a long shot, he's trying to do it properly. That I know of, last time he fell in love, he told the girl about our line of work. It lasted two weeks, then she dumped him because she couldn't handle to know.

_ I love you.

Good thing they were already parked, Dean would have bite Sam's head off if he crashed his car. Gabriel felt the need to elaborate before things turn awkward.

_ You don't need to answer Sam. I know it's too soon for you. I just wanted you to know, you're stuck with me buddy, 'cause I'm not going anywhere whether you want me or not.

Sam simply nodded at that, and kissed her, more deeply than at the shop. Then collected the bags to head out.

Did that mean he did want her too? She sure hoped so.

When Gabriel had called their motel room 'Lion's den' he hasn't been that far from the truth. Sam would go with 'dog house' instead. They stepped in the middle of a fight between Jo and Dean. Way to start a relationship!

_ Food's on the table. You got twenty to clean it up and leave the place." He claimed loud enough to make everyone start. "Jo, Dean's right: you come with me and Gab to the battle field. Cass, Bobby, Ellen and Dean go investigate the town. No splitting, no changing team, no straying alone. That's the deal. You commit, all of you, or I get Gab to chain you there. Now eat!

_ Where is he by the way?" Ellen Asked, already digging up and fishing coffee and scrambled eggs from the table. "And who's... Oh... yes,... Hi Lo'.

_ Good morning Ma'am." He cheered, then took his usual form back.

Eighteen minutes later, they were all dispatched into cars, ready to go. Ten minutes into the drive, Jo opened up again.

_ Men are the worst.

_ Witch one are you talking about right now?

Don't take the bait please, Sam could have prayed in the wind for all the good it did.

_ Dean, Sam. Frigging Winchesters. I'm not some little princess to protect. I am a Hunter too!

_ Protect you? You think Sam is trying to protect _you_? We are the ones heading toward the place Lucifer most likely is.

_ I thought you were ok with Dean and I." She pouted at Sam.

_ I am. As long as you're not hurting him. But I know him. If you go with him, he'll want to protect you, you'll want to prove he doesn't need to, you'll go overboard to prove it, and when you'll get injured or threatened, he'll lose his mind and make a mistake that could maim or kill him.

He could admit it was a little too blunt. At least that gave her something to think about during the last part of the road.

Sam stopped the engine half a mile shy of the place, they would finish on foot. In case there was a look-out. They happened to be two of them, quickly dealt with by Gabriel who simply froze them. They didn't want to attract too much attention, not yet.

The place looked, oddly peaceful for a slaughter field. Basically it was a slightly hilled grass field, with some tree clusters here and there. The numerous fresh patches of dirt weren't that endearing though.

_ Graves?" He asked Gabriel who stood by his side, stony-faced.

_ Thousands.

_ And about the recent ones?

Not that he didn't feel about the thousands of people who died there for their ideals of to protect their way of life. But right now, they were quite beyond the point.

_ Seventy-three, mostly teens and probably low-life given their health. Well before they passed away.

That made sense, those were the kind of people who wouldn't raise too much alarm in a small town police bullpen. Teenagers tended to run away, and come back a few weeks later. No one would care about some tramp, anyway.

_ You can tell if he's been there?

_ He has, about last week.

The graves did look about a week old.

_ And can he tell you were there when he returns?

_ Not if I don't want to, he's not really trying to keep low profile.

There was something wistful in Gabriel's expression, Sam noticed. It was disconcerting to see an archangel look vulnerable.

_ You know him best. Do you think there is still hope he'll come back?

_ Their death was neat, and quick. Nothing compared to what he had done before.

Sam nodded... he couldn't help but remember that nurse, taken by Lilith right hand, the horrors she had suffered. He had just added to her ordeal. Gruesomely.

He felt Gabriel's shoulder lean on his side. It felt bad for him, should even be worse for the angel. He dragged him in and wrapped his arms around Gab' shoulders. The simple gesture never missed to be comforting, to feel right.

He used the break to keep an eye on Joana, she was wandering around the graves, seemingly giving the poor souls last sacrament, or whatever could pass for it.

_ She's crying." Sam wondered why Gabriel cared; he had always made pretty clear he didn't like her much. "All the suffering, misery and despair. It's soaked into the dirt, right through her bones. Like a bad bruise that will take centuries to heal.

Oh... Earth then.

_ Shouldn't she be mad at us?

_ Come on, all your pettiness can't hurt her! She's too vast. You'll only hurt yourself, and a few other species. She will be sad, but her song will go on for the next few billions years. And she'll meet plenty other species to come long after you left.

_ It might not be too long... Outch.

_ Stop spouting nonsense kiddo, we are here to stop this madness.

_ Yeah... we are. Is there anything else to learn from this place?

_ Now we are certain it's the right spot, there nothing there but death and desolation. Please, step back.

Sam did, about ten steps away, then five more when Gabriel shooed him further. Then he saw the angel hunch his shoulder, he seemed to inflate, but when Sam blinked he realized he was still his usual shape. The static was rising up, making the hair on his arms do the same, until the pressure became almost unbearable.

Then it all ended with a flash. On either side of Sam lied scorched marks on the grass and dirt, six large spawning wings.

_ Now he'll know.

_ And all of my brethren. It's OK. Someday, it would have been out anyway. Let's not stick around not yet time to meet my dear brother.

Within seconds, they, and Jo, were back at Bobby's truck, en route for the town.


	18. Chapter 18 - Laisse béton

**Laisse béton - Renaud**

(Drop It)

* * *

Dean didn't know what was weirder, to have Cass as shotgun or Bobby behind him with Ellen. Maybe the quietness of the town, knowing it was on its way to be wiped out by the Devil himself as an offering to Death in person.

That was a disturbing phrasing.

It did look so normal, barber shops, dinners, nice, and less nice, houses, people strolling down the streets or mowing their lawn. The only two noticeable things about that town were 1/ it was on the 66, 2/ the number of missing person posters. Way too many for such a small place.

_ What you're looking feathers?" that was Bobby's gruff voice.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Dean saw that Castiel was indeed throwing looks all around, mostly where there was nothing for them to see.

_ Reapers. About three dozen so far. And a lot of demons.

_ They haven't made you?

Dean parked the car before the Sheriff office.

_ Apparently, Gabriel's runes do their work properly. They haven't realized what I am, if it was your question.

Demons and angels being able to see each other's real faces, they had to make sure Cass wouldn't be recognized. Before they went in the morning, Gabriel had painted Cass' body with quite a number of runes. The archangel himself didn't need them : when he had created his vessel he already had embed, infused and carved as many hiding spells he could. Couldn't carve them into Cass because his grace would take it as maiming Jimmy's body and try to heal it.

"Looks like some ancient witchcraft" Sam had noticed.

"Because it is sweetie." Apparently, Gabriel's banter didn't bother his brother any longer, or he has just become immune. This was when they learnt that the Trickster was somewhat at the origin of that particular art, soon to be twisted to become dark magic. "Someday I'll remember to get surprised about things you _haven't_ done."

_ Any reason why you call Loki by his pretended name too?

Ellen voice startled Dean out of his memories.

_ This is his real name." Cass answered dryly before exiting the car. Luckily in a human way, by opening the door and not popping out. They followed suite and headed toward the office.

Bobby held the door opened and let Ellen take the lead. Cass and Dean scrambled behind with the gears bags. More exactly, Dean scrambled and Cass waltzed through the door, unfazed.

The guy who came toward them was nearly as tall as Dean and wearing the usual beige sheriff's outfit. A grizzled late fifty; he probably had been fit years ago, maybe an ex-football player, now he sported a pouch deforming his belt and pushing his trousers down. He still had that air of arrogance Dean had learnt to associate with braindead sport scholarship when in high school.

He naturally turned toward the (apparently) elder man of their group, dismissing entirely Ellen who was standing right in front of him.

_ What do ya' want there?

_ Ellen Carter, FBI, BAU section. And since you are offering so politely, we'd like you to clear up one of your rooms to put our things.

_ Pardon? We ain't call no FBI.

_ Right, you didn't, maybe you should have." She pointed at the overcrowded missing person board. "Or you wanted to fill a second one before calling us?

The implied insult made the deputy (that was written on the star adorning his chest) puff-up a bit more, and attracted two other member of the beige team. Dean felt Cass press discreetly two fingers on the back of his hand. Awesome, demons wearing lawmen, now they knew why there had been so little efforts made to find the missing persons.

_ You are not welcomed there. Go back to your Farm.

_ The Farm is CIA, not FBI. Jackass." harrumphed Bobby.

Ellen made a shushing motion toward him with authority.

_ Anyway, we are not here to fight with you but to help. We have hunted down a dangerous sect using human sacrifices for years. And we finally managed to track them down, to this city. We believe most of your missing person has already been their victims.

"Sect" and "human sacrifice" always were some kind of magic words; most people didn't want to have to deal with it. This one was most people: he turned pasty white and took a step back as if Ellen suddenly got leprosy.

Dean could see the demons Cass had signaled him wavered, unsure. Apparently, keep their cover was more important right now since they didn't act-up.

_ I thought so. Then, like I said, I'm Hellen Carter, chief of this unit; the gruff bear there is Teddy Summer, our criminal behavior specialist. The gawking one is Robert Sinclair, ex-ranger fresh out of the woods.

Dean tried very hard not to look offended, probably failed.

_ He has dealt with the particular group we are chasing before. And the one in a trench coat actually poking at your fishbowl is Doctor Cassandra, Theology, specialist in Christian sects.

They all shook hands with the deputy this time.

_ There will be three others coming later. Now, about that room. And all of your missing person's files.

The deputy led them to his own office room. Marty, I think we're back to the 70's. Formica furniture, false wood paneling peeling off the wall, Dean could almost smell the lead exuding from the leprous paint. And don't get him started on the state of it all. A bar's back alley on Saturday morning would be cleaner.

He put a hand on a rickety table for balance to pick-up some littering on the floor. Shouldn't have. It was greasy with some squelchy and... Hugh... He wiped discreetly his hand on the least dirty napkin he found.

_ First and foremost, maybe make some room would be in order.

He ignored the weird look Bobby gave him and went out. He was about certain there had been a huge bin in the entry hall.

An hour later, they were all set. Hauling boxes of files, and putting pictures on a board.

_ You pulled a good one on them, and almost no lies. That was good.

Despite the injured pride, Dean was quite admiring with Ellen's piece of act.

_ Like I say, for every situation, there is a cop-show that could fit.

_ And the one you ripped off was?

_ Criminal Mind. FBI unit specialized in nut-cases and serial killers.

Dean nodded and beckoned Cass to come with him hunt down some coffee. He needed coffee. The desk lady indicated them one a little further down the street. The trip was fast, but a bit unnerving with the angel always throwing glances someplace where there was nothing to see.

The coffee shop was surprisingly clean and airy, painted in shades of blue and light grey, large windows, white tables. The customers were smiling, chattering about futilities, the damn weather. Even the clerk, a young scrawny man looked fresh-faced and full of light.

Then he realized that shouldn't be surprising. HIs life was grim to keep it that way for the others. It was just unusual for them to step on the bright side. It was... blinding.

Shadows were their territory.

Dean ordered coffees for the three of them and added large box of doughnuts. He gave the box to Cass, kept the coffees on one of those cardboard trays and a free hand.

That proved useful when Cass tried to cross the street without even looking at the traffic. He could have hit a bus and not feel it, but it would attract attention. Dean just had time to grab his wrist and pull him back before the truck wooshed by them; making the trench coat flap against his legs.

_ Rules Cass, no wandering alone.

The fucker wasn't even paying attention to him.

_ Cass. What is it?

Dean didn't know if he should be angry or worried.

_ Castiel. Whatever you saw, we'll come back and investigate. Don't go there alone.

_ They can do nothing to me Dean.

_ They can't hurt you or kill you. What they can do is keep you away from us. Then attack us.

_ Demons don't see me.

_ But you've been watching the reapers all the time since we've been here, I doubt _they_ didn't notice. Please.

This wasn't much, Cass wasn't very expressive, but the way he looked from the corner of his eye, the slight pinch of his lips.

_ Yeah, I know, stupid, weak, slow humans you have to deal with.

_ I never said...

Dean waved a dismissive hand and headed back toward the Sheriff office, he knew Cass will follow now.

_ Why so many of those pastries?

_ Peace offering, we barged into their place, made room for us. We don't want pissed off officials getting in our way.

_ Then why not bring them coffee too?

_ We don't want overly grateful officials getting in our way either.

Dean replied lightly just before opening the door and let the angel in.

_ I understand.

Well... there was a first time to everything. Cass opened the box on one of the central desk of the office and took a few on a napkin Dean handed him.

Turned out Ellen and Bobby hadn't twiddled their thumbs while they were away. They already had sorted through piles of files and made up a list of families to visit. They knew what they were against, but they had at least to pretend to be FBI for the watchful eyes.

He waited for the invading deputy to leave to lead the discussion back to Cass strange behavior and whatever could have cause it.

_ There was a reaper in a building, I think he wanted to say something.

_ Or to lure you away and leave us naked.

It took a beat for Cass to understand that it was an image and its signification.

_ Dean told me so.

_ And for once, he was being sensible.

_ It's my day or what?

_ Try to hurt my daughter, and you'll see what it really means, boy.

Dean chocked on his half bitten doughnut. He knew she knew, still...

_ I'm seriously serious ma'am. Don't wanna hurt her.

_ Then why she was pissed at you this morning?

_ She wanted Dean to follow her to her room, he didn't. His only model for long term relationships is Ghost.

Dean huffed. Perfect timing from his bro, still, did he really need to be so blunt or make him sound so cheesy? And...

_ What the...?

In front of him were standing Joanna, right, a tall Lady Fox with a "wow" dress and some plump, short balding forty-so years old.

_ Sammy?

_ It's just an illusion, Lo' hasn't transformed me." said the balding.

_ But why?

_ Bozzo" uttered Lady Fox with so much contempt it had to be Gabe.

She swiped her finger on the door in a vaguely familiar motion before speaking up again.

_ Every demon on Earth know your description: pretty green eyed boy with anger management issues and an oversized scary pup'. You alone stand out. Sam... can't really say there is many guys his build. Both...

This made sense. But damn, that was disturbing.

He closed by and poked the short man. It felt exactly as it looked.

_ Of course hot-shot, I'm that awesome, and thorough.

_ You did forget the Santiags.

_ Stop it guys, we have better things to do.

_ Now we are alone and out of prying ears range: Castiel how bad is the situation out there? How many demons already?

_ 26 out of 100 of the men between sixteen and sixty.

_ Interesting choice. Elder Feather, any idea you can share about why?

_ My brother might be just a tad old fashioned. Or maybe Death is. Not sure, there shouldn't be any particular reason, he needs to wipe out the entire town anyway, the Sacrifice asks for a lot of offered souls.

_ How many reported?

That was Joanna, before the headboard where the missing person's pictures were displayed.

_ Forty five.

_ There were already much more tombs.

Dean huffed, he wished he could bite their heads, they had waited and now, in less than three weeks... And it kept accelerating. He also knew why they couldn't have barged in, guns blazing. They would have been vastly outnumbered anyway, and dealt with quickly.

_ So. What do we do now?" Jo asked. Her eyes still glued to the board, she looked pitiful, crushed by the sheer number of destroyed lives. Demons really were a different jig. They shouldn't have dragged the girls into that.

_ That's sexist Dean-o.

_ You, don't go around in my head.

_ 't was written all over your face hot-shot.

_ I say, we start the plan. No need to wait longer. In the meantime, we keep on pretending to be FBI. Not raise more suspicion than we already have.

So they did: Bobby got to make the calls, Dean Sam and Cass went to investigate the reaper that tried to lure the angel. The girls (and for now that included Gabe) went to interview families.

Oh! The dark glare Jo had sent toward the archangel's dashing, and flirtatious new persona. It pissed Sam. Dean found it quite funny, somehow.

The place was dingy, of course it was. Abandoned for years, moldy and dusty.

_ Is it still there?

Cass looked around, taking in the whole apartment.

_ No one else is there.

And there wasn't much to see either. Until Sam slipped and quite ungracefully landed on the floor.

_ You OK Sam. Tripped on your shoelace?

_ No, slipped on something.

Dean swiped the flashlight over the wooden floor. Besides dust and cobweb…

_ There's nothing there Sam.

He extended a hand to haul him up. Once back on his feet, Sam dusted himself and straightened his pants. The motion cut short when he drew his hand back toward his face with a scrunch up.

_ That's dirt princess.

Sam sniffed his fingers. Disgusting.

_ That's oil.

Castiel almost made him stumble when purposefully strolling toward the place where Sam fell.

_ Sam's right, this is Holy Oil. Poured in a circle." He confirmed from his crouched position.

_ So I _was_ right and the ripper tried to drag and keep you away from us.

_ Aren't they supposed to be neutral? Why would they help demons bring the Apocalypse?

_ Maybe they just want their boss to come back." Dean shot back. He didn't really see the point trying to figure out the bad guys motives. Reapers were on the wrong side, which was all he needed to know.

Sam fished his phone and sent a text to Gabriel to warn him against reapers and Holy Oil. Then they went to their first assigned missing person case.

Nothing weirder than to pretend working on a missing person case, knowing they were dead, having seen their grave, and interviewing the demon that took them as a grieving family member.

* * *

Somehow, more difficult to write than the heart-to-hearts.

Well... guess moving the plot forward's a bit of a necessity at one point.


	19. Chapter 19 - Bimbo à moi

**Bimbo à Moi - Axel Red**

(Bimbo of mine)

* * *

_ Ok. Will do.

_ ...

_ About a hundred and sixty miles.

_ ...

_ No problem, we'll be there on time: 6.30am sharp.

The man closed his phone and pocketed it in the back of his dirty jeans, revealing a black revolver tucked in the belt. He turned toward his partner, a scrawny guy occupied by a white van.

_ You finished the lettering?

_ Two more minutes. I'm finishing the last one.

_ OK, then suit up. We have to get going.

_ To where?

_ Carthage, Missouri.

SPNSPN

_ Well, someone had forgotten a few things on his taxes declaration.  
Gabriel couldn't help but admire the scenery, big fancy house, with heaps of antiques, both genuine and fake, carpeted with fine, real, Persian rugs. A nest to his tastes.

Like the mission the boys gave him.

He grinned. Right into his field of expertise. Passing by a heavily golden mirror, the angel took in his new face: square jawed bulk tall guy, with short brownish hair and droopy eyes. Not too good looking, he won't keep that one.

On the other hand, the guy did wear suits quite well. The only downside being the gun in the holster he was wearing. The thing reeked, and made him a bit queasy. Couldn't help, didn't like those cold oily little things.

Not that he minded their lethality, he had killed plenty himself. It was just way too easy to kill with guns, and not feel the weight of what you've done. Ending a life was a terrible thing, with no coming back, it had to come with a price, or there was no meaning to it.

Maybe that was the reason why Sam used knives when he could, and Dean was more of a gun guy.

_ Jeff, when you're done admiring your new haircut...

_ Yeah, yeah. I'm there.

Jeff was a bodyguard. Not just any bodyguard, (besides the fact that Gabriel was actually impersonating him, what should be more than enough to make him special) Jeff was one of the "Big Health and Security Pasha in the Government" bodyguard. Gabriel didn't care much about the proper title, only what his temporary boss could do.

Apparently, the guy could command armies, or at least order the armies commanders to do... things. That was good enough for the boys plan. Especially combined with Gabriel's persuasion skills.

_ Jeff!

_ There.

He strolled toward his colleague, rolling his shoulders. It was actually quite fun to have large bulky shoulders to roll. Sam should try to roll his, just to see how it fit him.

_ Jeff, not the time to drool over your babe. Focus.

Boring...

Dean shouldn't, he looked already macho enough not to add shoulder rolling.

Standing near a pompous guy, making a speech before a parterre of others pompous guys, and gals, while looking out for possible threats was a bit dull. Damn he hoped things would get in motion soon.

Too bad Sam has insisted he didn't take directly upon the pasha role. He was an archangel, he could hear threats from ten miles, fantasize about Sam in a bustier and stilettos, and write half a dozen Swedish furniture notices at the same time. And even still have some room to make a much better speech.

So... to pass the time, Gabriel started to make a list. He had a whole big, clinky ball room full of sinners, compulsive liars, fur wearers and tax swindlers right in front of him. That would make quite the list. And angels never slept. What Sam couldn't know wouldn't hurt.

Ok... he'll try to keep to non-lethal punishments. Sam had liked the rotting dick idea after all.

He was halfway through the second row of round garish tables when his salvation came in the form of a brisk woman trotting toward his charge a phone in hand and a worried expression on her face. The pasha blanched, cracked a few excuses to the crowd and scurried toward the lounge. Jeff and his coworker

Joss, a delicious looking ex-marine followed hurriedly.

He should have taken Joss.

There was a TV on in the lounge. Footage of a crossroad in a small town were taken from above, helicopter view. In the middle of that particular crossroad: a white van and a truck in wreckage. A bunch of little men in white suits were busying around, a sanitary cordon keeping bystanders away. No traffic jam to show, the town was hardly a dot on a large scale map.

The bottom line indicated that a truck carrying volatile chemical waste had crossed at red light and hit a van from a pharmaceutical firm full of (actually) unknown virus and bacteria samples. Felt a bit of overkill, but humans were so dense sometimes.

And Americans loved overkill; just have to watch their horror movies: creepy scenes were never enough. They always had to add some loud noise to make you jump. So many excellent scenes spoiled because of lousy soundtrack...

Gabriel tsked and went back to the subject at hand.

_ A team has already been send to evaluate the damages and the dangerousness of the products." said the brisk woman.

Well obviously, since they actually were on screen.

_ We expect a preliminary report in an hour at most.

Mr. Pasha nodded, Gabriel took a seat; there was not much to do for the moment except look very worried.

Actually, he was.

Step one: done.

* * *

Sam hated lab coat.

Mostly because they couldn't find one that would fit. And others reasons, like TV land, an hospital with his whole family dying, TV land, that friend from med school with his gory details from his practice, TV land...

The only worse thing than wearing a lab coat was wearing an anti-contamination suit over a lab coat. It was awkward, and sticking and poking in the most unpleasant places. Dean had insisted it was him, coz' you know: puppy eyes thing and all.

_ Hi, erm..." He read the label. "Doctor Chandler. I'm Doctor Sirkis.

He extended his hand. Well tried to, with the suit and gloves and... stuff getting in the way. He let his arm fall back against his body.

_ SilverLight Labs send me to check on our stocks. I need to make an account of the products. And make sure none of the most sensitive samples broke. Here the logs, if you want to check yourself.

He managed to extend his hand high enough to give the paper clip to the man and brushed past his to climb into the van. Soon sorting through the crushed vials.

_ Wait...wait wait wait... You have Malaria and Diphtheria in there.

_ Why? Yes, amongst others, I told you: it's viruses samples. And I hope that moron who T-Boned our van didn't break it. You might want to put a mask on? Because I don't see many intact phials in there.

The guy blanched and scurried away. Sam fumbled a bit more, carefully getting some intact containers out of the wreckage, ruffling things.

When he felt he had wasted enough time in the van, and that he couldn't bear the suit much longer, Sam got out of the van, made a stop under the decontamination shower and headed toward the drivers.

They were bickering heatedly from their respective stretchers. Obviously, they were blaming each other for the accident and not having secured containment devices for such dangerous matters.

Sam thought that they were pulling a good show. He went forward to make sure they were ok. He didn't know them, but they were Bobby's acquaintances after all.

Step two : done.

* * *

Ellen, pant suit and tight bun, strolled toward the deputy standing near the safety perimeter, Dean and Jo in tow. A FBI agent couldn't see a possibly disastrous situation and do nothing about it, could they?

_ What's happening officer? We've just seen the news. Is there something we can do to help?

_ Hello agent Carter, agent Sinclair, and...

_ Agent Morgan, nice to meet you.

_ Nice to meet you too. I don't know. This is an accident, not a crime scene. And from their looks" he nodded toward the lab-guys, one of them discussing animatedly on the phone "this might harm many more people than your little sect.

_ Will they evacuate the town?" Jo piped in, looking pale and throwing worried glances toward the wreckage. "I mean... what if they got Ebola or the chicken flu in that?

Her voice was getting shriller with every word.

_ Don't be silly, they would have put things like that in much safer containers. They would, wouldn't they?

Dean turned toward Ellen as referent.

_ How should I know? I do hope so. We also know private firms tend to lower the costs as much as possible, and hope nothing bad happen.

_ But..." Started Jo, distraught.

_ Hey, what's taking you so long? Oh, hi deputy." Bobby came in, clean shaved like never and wearing a naphthalene scented suit.

_ You've got eyes, see for yourself." Ellen deadpanned.

_ Wreckage, between a medical van and chemical waste filled truck." The deputy supplied helpfully.

According to Cass, the guy was one of the few still not under demonic dominion, God knows why. Or more likely Lucifer knows why.

Jo coughed. Ellen urged her to step away from the place, you never know. Dean offered to accompany her and led her to a cafe nearby. Bobby stayed with Ellen and the local lawman, looking dejectedly at the truck.

It was a huge tank truck, the kind made to carry liquid things. That one was oozing a nasty looking goo, lime green and bubbling. Even the smell was awful, acrid.

_ That thing looks toxic. Smells like it's gonna melt your lungs from inside out. I say we should get the hell outa here. Erm... respectfully, chief.

_ We still have work to do Teddy. That sect won't arrest itself.

_ We won't arrest them if we're dead before we find them." He retorted gruffly before heading back to the cafe where Dean and Jo were waiting. Ellen bid her good-by to the deputy; please call me Conrad now, then nodded to the reporters nearby in her way toward her companions.

She barely had time to go through the first half of her cup before one of the curious reporters came to them, mike in hand and her camerawoman on tow.

Good...

* * *

The Pasha closed his phone, visibly shaken, and gathered his advisers to discuss the topic at hand: what to do about that potentially disastrous situation.

The TV was still on, actually showing from afar a SilverLight Pharmaceutical employee interview the drivers. Then he was on big picture, being himself interviewed by a Platine blonde journalist that reached barely to his shoulder.

_ Damn, that guy is huge." Commented Joss.

_ I wonder if he's equally proportionate everywhere." added another female bodyguard, one on the adviser's.

Gabriel would love to know the answer of that one.

The tall man in a lab coat tried to be reassuring, explain that there was no reason to panic, the situation was under control. Of course an evacuation would be an overreaction, the most dangerous phials were always hermetically secured, the company policy. No risk, at all. All the while throwing the journalist some huge charming toothy smile.

_ Ain't that a load of bullshit! If it's not all waffles, I don't know my job.

Gabriel boasted, a bit more loudly than it was required for a trustee bodyguard. Joss and the other woman nodded in agreement, the guy obviously wasn't being honest and looked like he wanted to be somewhere else. Preferably on the other side of the planet. The committee stopped there chattering to listen to the news.

Too bad, the beautiful man was soon replaced by the most freckled chick Gabriel had ever seen (and he had quite a few on his own, in his usual skin) pretending she was with some FBI agents, who just happened to be in town for a totally irrelevant case. And were now stranded here, fearing the place would be closed up and impair their investigations.

Or be evacuated and scatter their target: a group of some sort of Satanist on a murder spree.  
"How do know that?" "This is an ongoing investigation, we can't discuss the details with you."

_ Lovely city, remember me not to go there on my next holydays.

_ I totally agree, Donny." Jeff nodded to the woman who had been leering over his handsome Sam. "I like Bali's beaches better. North coast, the South ones have become way too touristic.

_ You should bring your babe there. When's the proposal? Finally found the perfect ring.

_ No better ring than mine. And I doubt I'll get the occasion to go that far anytime soon.

_ Guys, you're gross. And our charges seem to be on the move. Bye...

Indeed, Pasha asked Joss to call the limo, he needed to meet some others big shots. Jeff followed suit.  
Things looked like they were going to the right direction.

A fake weather forecast about strong winds in the place, a few hints about the chemicals toxicity. All nicely wrapped up with the help of a few hunters.  
In fact, Pasha needed no much pushing to finally declare the evacuation of the town toward others cities gymnasium, military enforced to make sure everything would go smoothly.

They wouldn't want the sect to use the panic to make more victims, would they?

Gabriel smirked in Pasha's back; his brothers had fucked up greatly when underestimating the offspring of both Winchester and Campbell families. Well... Zachariah, at least, knew that dividing them would impair their abilities. Too bad, Gabriel was better at mending others families than his own.  
They too seemed to have needed just a little pushing and a few incents to bloom into the fine arts of large scale scam. In a few decades, they might even prove worthy of his tutelage.

* * *

It was the rush of waves that woke him up first, strong and rhythmic. Then the cries of some sea bird.

It was warm. Not stuffing, the wind was blowing softly on his cheek, and whispering in the leaves above him.

He cracked an eye open, surprised not to be restrained. White sand, blue sea, small waves and palm trees above his head. Could be Florida, could be Hawaii or any island between the two tropics, and a tad beyond.

There were a few fisher boats swinging softly on the sea, others were hauled up some bamboo contraption to keep them out of water. Narrow, wooden, colorful boats.

_ Ok... most likely not the Continent then.

He got into a seating position, realizing in the move that he was loosely clad with a pink Tee-shirt and some large parrot ornate shorts. He had never seen those clothes before, let alone wore them.

Nothing much more to see from here. He got up and followed the shore, in direction of the boats. There must be someone who could tell him where he was.  
And how the hell did he end up in a tropical island when his last memory was going to bed in his flat, in Washington?

A short trip later he found a bunch of kids playing soccer with a soft ball. Dark skinned, round faces. More likely Indian Ocean than Pacific then. He called out for them.

They immediately came to round him cheerfully, and laugh when they realized they couldn't understand him anymore than he could understand them. Besides the 'Hello' they kept on chirping. The kids lead him through the palm trees to a cluster of houses, each with some temple on their garden. Hindu.

_ Is... is this Bali?

One girl caught on the word.

_ Bali ! Hello Bali!

How the Hell did he make it across the Earth? And how was he supposed to come back home?


	20. Chapter 20 - Le baiser

**Le Baiser - Indochine (Mrated) or Alain Souchon (Soft)**

(The Kiss)

* * *

If there is one thing you could give credit to the militaries, it was their efficiency. Less than two hours after the Pasha ordered the evacuation and confinement of Carthage population, half the city was parked in stadium or gymnasiums in the closest towns.

They came full force, high speakers blaring announcement about the up-coming evacuation.

"Due to an unfortunate accident involving possible chemical and biological hazard, this city will be evacuated, please join our forces check point to be examined and brought into safety. Only one bag per person will be allowed."

It was all over the town, brought by several army jeeps scouting the whole place, making sure no one would be left behind.

Not long after the militaries started the evacuation, people, mostly men, started to writher in pain here and there. Some would soon get up disoriented and haggard, others would stay on the ground: dead.

That gave the bystanders incent to rush toward the evacuation points. Apparently, the mix between chemicals and a bunch of viruses released at the same time could do really weird things to a human body.

The town was cleared before dawn.

* * *

When Donna, his fiancée showed up, in the middle of the night, in his room on the base, with a tall dark haired man, Benjamin Noble first feared she was breaking up with him and his heart sank. To his credit, he has had a rough week and he was _very_ tired.

When she asked him to volunteer to the up-coming evacuation, he felt confused. How could she know about an evacuation that had not been yet decided?

When the man pulled a flash drive out of his pocket and Donna a laptop out of her bag, the only thing that came to mind was : what the fuck?

And then they explained what they wanted of him. That's when his mind decided it had enough, he stopped trying to understand why his girlfriend and the strange man wanted him to add weird Latin things into the record that will be broadcast, just focused on learning how to. She gave him a promising kiss and left as soon as he got it.

Later, when the call for volunteers came, he realized that Donna and his uptight companion should have never been able to set foot in the base, in the first place.

Donna had one hell of a temper, like most red hair, and sometimes tended to mix fiction and reality, but damn she was worth it.

He stepped forward.

* * *

And God he must love his girl, watching those people fall one after another on their wake, knowing that must have something to do with the Latin playing in the background, was most disturbing.

He felt like _he_ was the reason why those people suffered. And that Smokey goo... Donna would have some explaining to do.

* * *

Sam had stayed with the hunters who drove the truck and the van until they were safely back from examination at the hospital in Joplin. Bruises, contusions, luckily nothing really harming, they would be as good as new in a few days.

He bid them good byes and headed down to the car. He wasn't really surprised to find Gabriel, 'photosynthesizing' on the roof, now that his role in DC was over.

_ Jeff's back home?

_ All and good, he may just wake up with a sore stomach. Bali's food's quite spicy. Remind me to bring you there someday.

_ Will do.

Sam sat behind the wheel and rested his head on his crossed arms. He knew he had screwed up, pretty badly, broke the world, etc... But to hear those guys, those strangers, throw it to his face, blaming him for it. Without any filter, they basically threatened to hunt him down and kill him if their plan didn't pan out.

"And John, so proud he couldn't stop bragging about his college boy."

 _Proud_?! He had _agonized_ Sam after figuring out he wanted to drop the family business to go to Stanford, told Dean to drop him at the nearest bus stop right away and Sam to never come back.

"Always about how clever his little Sam was. Not clever enough to remember not to get in bed with a demon, drink their filthy blood like a freak vampire and break the goddam Apocalypse over _our_ heads."

It hurts.

Badly.

Cause it was so true. And wrong.

John had always tried to keep him from the Supernatural for reasons, but he had cut Sam out, out of disappointment. To brag about him, probably in front of Dean, that was so fucked-up.

Gabriel must have called him several times before grabbing softly his face and draw him into a slow melting kiss. Sam let him for a while before dragging his angel closer, for a much more heated make-out session.

_ Love, if you keep on like this, angel abilities or not, I won't be able to step back.

_ Then don't." Sam whispered before claiming his lips again.

This time it was Gabriel who pulled away.

_ You don't want to be my toy-boy, I don't want to be you Teddy bear Sam.

That calmed Sam down pretty efficiently. Still he did not let go of Gabriel soft body, letting his finger trace the mobile eyebrows, down to his pointy nose back through his hair.

_ I do want you. Have for a while. I know it happens at the wrong time right now but...

_ Then why only now, I made pretty clear I wanted it too.

_ Because that wasn't fair." Sam shot back frustrated.

_ How Sam?

At least Gabriel wasn't trying to get away from his, and kept soft and low.

_ You said you loved me. And I hadn't forgiven you. It didn't seem fair to... take advantage.

_ Does this mean you've forgiven me now?

_ Yes.

Gabriel literally beamed at him and lunged at his lips. When a passing police officer came by and knocked at the window they giggled like thirteen years old. It was becoming a habit.

_ Let's go somewhere more secluded.

_ Hotel?

_ Why for? This baby looks perfect.

Sam started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. His hands were trembling. He couldn't remember when was the last time he was looking forward to have sex with someone so badly.

And no Ruby didn't count, sex had been mostly a side effect of getting high, and a way to drown his despair.

Now, he just _wanted_.

He drove out of the city and Gabriel lead him toward a shadowed place, off the road. Typed a quick message to Dean to tell him that Roy and Walt were OK and not to wait for him for dinner. He felt like a teenage girl texting her mom' she wouldn't respect curfew for the first time. Not that he ever had a mom besides Dean, or curfew.

Sam barely had time to set his phone on mute that Gabriel had grabbed him and all but threw his ass on the back seat before climbing on him, his jacket lost somewhere between Heaven and Hell. Sam only cared it was one layer less between him and Gabriel.

He shrugged his own alongside his shirt and threw them away. Let Gab' get rid of his shirt, splay his hands on his skin, test the ground and rub and tease, drawing his nails on. Just hard enough to _feel_.

And damn that felt _good_.

They were rushing things, letting no much room for sweet long foreplay. Another time. Another day.

There was still one layer too much on the upper side. He tore the angel's shirt and pulled. Heated skin against pale heated skin. He grabbed and groped, everything he could reach from Gabriel's round shoulders to his plump ass. Lips against Gabriel pulsating throat, nipping and sucking, relieved he felt no urge to bite.

Still, when he managed to pull back, Gabriel's neck was an angry red. Would turn blue soon were he not an angel. He caressed the abused skin softly with his lips, licking lightly.

_ Sorry.

_ S'okay sweetheart. Angel there, you can't hurt me. Go wild love.

And Sam did, trousers and pants soon gone, he let his finger trace Gabriel spine, from his neck and down. Way more down.

_ Cheater..." he whispered in the angel's ear. At least, they wouldn't need to grab some lube.

_ Always, that's how I got you.

_ Oh... that's what you think?" Sam teased, twisting his fingers and made Gabriel literally meowl before claiming his mouth again.

Sam was... overwhelming. HIs scent, his kisses, his hands all over Gabriel's body. Damn, it had been so long since he last slept with someone real and not one of his creations. It felt so much more.

Especially with his angel senses, much more acute than a human's. The smell of leather, Sam, the trees outside, engine oil, Sam and sex, the feel of his skin all over and in him (and yes, _yes_ , Sam was perfectly proportionate), the car that saw Sam grow up from two meeting gametes to the incredible young man in his arms.

If that weren't enough to overload Gabriel, the little bitch, who had spent the last few weeks to reinforce his barriers to keep Gabriel out of his mind had let down every wall and was actually wide open to him. Almost throwing his bunched up feelings at the angel's face: his own pleasure, tenderness, the loneliness of his heart slowly starting to fill again, trust, a hint of blueberry flavored adoration.

Not love. Not quite.

Not yet.

There was still Hope.

That felt _good_ , and wild and amazing.

At first, there had been some scrambling and a few giggles the time they found their footage and rhythm. Now there was just pure bliss, Sam like a stormy ocean under him, his hand on Gabriel's head to prevent more bump on the roof, his swollen lips about everywhere they could reach.

He could feel his grace, finally awoken after so many years by his little pyrotechnic show the day before, stir against his restrain. Gabriel didn't think too much of it at first, it was only gentle ripples.

His own pleasure added to the feels he was getting from Sam were sending him higher and higher, chanting Sam's name like a litany, rougher and rougher, his misbehaving grace soon forgotten.

Until it started to get too much and Gabriel to be afraid he would burst out. He did try to slow down, keep enough of his mind to have control over his grace. Sam's tongue tracing his collarbone was damn distracting. His lover was too far gone to realize and Gabriel got scared. He called out Sam with more intensity.

It took Sam a few seconds to notice the altered tune, and brush Gabriel's mind with concern, worry and care. It was the last straw that send Gabriel over the edge.

He exploded, or imploded, fell into blackness, still desperately trying to avoid burning Sam up, his vanning mind reaching out to Sam calls, his name resonating both into his mind and ears.

"Come to me".

And then he was no more.


	21. Chapter 21 - Electrastar

**Electrastar - Indochine**

(Not an actual word, no translatable, some mashup beween 'Electric' and 'star')

* * *

Dean snapped his phone shut and threw it on the nearest bed. Sam, that little shit, had texted him not to wait for them two hours ago. And since then, nothing, nichts, nada. His brother hasn't even answered any of the six calls Dean has made.

_ I'm sure they are fine. I mean, what could happen to Sam with Loki to stand guard.

_ I'm not sure a pagan would be any match if Lucifer decide to come early.

_ If anything had happened, Castiel would know.

Dean had mostly tuned the others out for quite a while, this had gone on for the past half hour, but the last one felt sound. He got out and called Cass.

_ Hi, you fine?

_ Meg hasn't moved from her prison if this is what you are worried about.

_ That's good to know. But in fact, I was more concerned about Gabe and Sam. They haven't come back yet and Sam's not answering his phone. You got anything from your side of the line.

_ Gabriel cut me out, he said he wanted some privacy.

Ok... sooo... they were at it. _Now_ of all time?! He hoped they weren't doing it in his baby.

_ I hope they're not screwing in my car.

_ Do you need me to go and see? I might still be able to localize Gabriel.

Dean blushed furiously at the idea.

_ Thanks, but I don't think that would be welcomed. I'll... just have to wait and see if I need to give our brothers an earful.

He could almost hear Cass little frown of perplexity.

_ Do you mean you want to lecture them about having sex together? I thought you were agreeing to their relationship.

It was pretty clear that Cass disapproved of the sexual part about Sam and Gabriel's relationship. It was supposed to be a taboo after all, even if there was no way Sam could get pregnant.

_ About having sex in my car.

_ But... You and Anna...

Dean frowned: was there a hesitation in Cass voice on Anna's name? At least she was human when he slept with her.

_ That's still _my car_ Cass. _I_ get to say who is allowed to have sex in or not.

_ Maybe you should have warned Sam before, then.

Dean let it go and changed subject. Once he was assured everything was alright at the salvage, he bid his good bye to the angel.

At last resort, Dean tried to send a prayer to the Archangel.

"Gabriel you fucker, when you're done screwing my brother, tell him to pick his damn phone. And make sure my car doesn't smell like sex when you're back."

Dean shivered; he had the odd felling there was no one at the other side of the line. He also had never prayed to anyone besides Cass and Balthazar, once. And their weird angel did say Gabriel didn't want to be interrupted.

He shook the feeling and went back in.

Of course Bobby and Ellen had used the distraction to get away and let Jo behind.

It was awkward. Dean had absolutely no idea about how a 'boyfriend' was supposed to act. And knowing that Sam was most probably having sex in his car with an archangel, nothing less, was quite the mood killer.

Jo seemed to know better: she got on one of the bed, hugged a pillow, chose a TV program and beckoned Dean to come near. He did and let her snuggle against his side.

So movie it would be; and a few stolen kisses during the ads. He could do with that.

Next time, he should ask Cass how he met Balthazar and how they became friends.

* * *

There was darkness, all around them, as far as they could reach. But there was also light, and sounds.

A millions pin pricks, a million giant globes of light, each one buzzing and chanting its own song. It was so beautiful.

They were floating amongst stars, all age, all size. There were dust cluster, gathering to give birth to new wailing baby stars and giant pits of darkness, hungry and greedy. But sometimes, from the wreckage one single, brilliant, star would shot out of its massive attraction and journey through the void.

Some stars were old, their chant inflated by their last breath, their cortege of planets and moons following them into oblivion.

All held into one second of eternity, in perpetual rebirth. It was stunning. They let themselves drift among the spheres, listening to their chant, underlined by the low drum of the black pits.

It took long, of maybe not, for them to realize that there was another sound under it all, repetitive. An endless loop of the same few streams of consonants and vowels.

 _Gabriel. Gabriel._

It held warmth.

That was only then they realized how cold the emptiness around them really was. They contracted, tending toward the Warmth.

The millions shards of their being, disseminated throughout the galaxy started to draw together, not unlike dust clouds gathered to create stars.

Were they a star too?

No... they were a Gabriel. They definitely were a Gabriel, whatever a Gabriel could be.

They were one.

The voice was still chanting their name, again and again "Please come back to me". The Warmth was still there, curling around them, giving them shape, a potato shape, with limbs. That reminded them about something, or not.

Maybe.

The chant shifted, the Warmth was there again but more concentrated, on one limb extremity. It felt soft, and a bit wet.

They felt. That was odd.

That was tingling. That made wiggle five small appendixes at the end of their limb.

A word popped in their mind: toe. They had toes, five of them. They wiggled again.

The tingling Warmth hitched for an eternity, or a second, then it came back along the toes and up, drawing a junction, the sole of a _foot_ and an intricate flexible mix of bones and tendons followed by long, lean bones and flesh.

That struck as both natural and unnatural. They were pretty sure they were not supposed to be flesh and bones. The shape modeled by the Warmth was way too small to contain them whole. Still, it felt familiar. Pleasant. They feared it would hurt to cram themselves into that small shape.

It didn't. Or maybe, just a bit.

The Warmth had five digits too. It was going up, and up along their flesh, their skin, shaping a whole leg. Something else, softer and a bit wet brushed the bare skin following the digit's path.

Then they were gone, to start again at another extremity. Soon, Gabriel had two legs and ten toes to wiggle and the hands belonging to the voice went further up, creating a spine, vertebra after vertebra, kneading a soft abdomen, ticklish... their breath hitched.

They had lungs, soft pink lungs and a heart, encased within flexible ribs. The Warmth was still chanting their name, and was now covering the entirety of their recovered body, it was a Human. They recognized the shape now.

They weren't human though, but they were human shaped. His hands went up their ribs, to their collar, round shoulders and down the last two limbs, similar and different from their legs. The wet softness went up.

Up a neck, along a jaw, ghosting over an ear, his Human's lips rediscovered their face. Palms against palms, fingers in a knot.

They searched the lips with their own. And it felt good. Soft and passionate. Alive.

They were alive. They weren't _a_ Gabriel. They were _Gabriel_. Archangel. Sam's lover.

_ Sam...

He, oh... yes, this body was male. He then, arched his body against his Sam's own warm, giant, naked body. Kissed again.

And almost growled when one of Sam's hand let his loose, and purred when it came to caress softly his face, brushed his hair out of his eyes.

Now he could see, Sam's soft hazel eyes, the relief in them, the strained crinkles at their corner.

_ There you are...

_ Here I am.

They both whispered softly, as if afraid that too much noise would shatter their reunion.

_ You had me worried. Where were you?

Gabriel, still haunted by the beautiful sigh on the galaxy he met, didn't answer and kissed again.

_ You are so stunningly beautiful.

Sam smiled shyly at the awe tinging Gabriel's breathed praise.

They were snuggled against each other, a conjured blanket enveloping them both, enjoying the comforting feel of their naked skins against each other.

_ How long was I gone?

Sam couldn't tell, his anxiety made it feel like an eternity. It probably wasn't past midnight though. He could look on his phone, didn't want to move. Did it matter anyway?

_ At least I didn't blow up the car.

Sam smirked.

Gabriel was humming a low multi-voiced chant that sounded like nothing Sam had ever heard against his chest. He felt good and wanted it to stay that way a little longer. The low buzz of his phone, lost somewhere in the car drew a grunt out of his chest.

Sam could feel Gabriel smirk against him. A snap later, his phone was in Sam's hand. Dean, always the worrywart was calling for the tenth time.

_ I swear Dee, next time you throw me out of the room to get laid, you won't know what hit you.

_ You are defiling my car.

_ Wouldn't be her first time.

_ Get your ass home.

Sam cut the line and threw the phone back on the front seat and curled around Gabriel small body. That made his angel laugh.

_ You know sweetheart, like I said, I'm not going anywhere. We can go for it as many times as you want. Later. I do not wish for your brother to get down on my sore ass because I kept you away from him for too long.

Sam huffed... and released Gabriel, slowly, with a lot of kissing.

Slowly he retrieved his clothes, put them on, went back to the driver seat. He felt a bit sluggish. Gabriel simply wrapped the soft blanket around him and waited for him front seat. He looked a bit worn by whatever happened.

Despite his worry, Sam refrained to ask again, and tried to think about something else; Gabriel wasn't secretive for shit and giggles, not anymore. At least not with Sam. So either he couldn't tell yet or needed time to process.

They soon reached the Motel. All was quiet and the only of their rooms with the lights on were Dean and Sam's. The blue flicking light most likely coming from the TV. Sam slid out of the car and let Gabriel hang onto his neck, picking him up koala style.

When they entered, the angel's face hiding in his neck, and his tongue tracing Sam's vein, Sam couldn't tell whether he was surprised Jo was still there or not. But Dean openly watching a rom-com was a sight.

He nodded to them and strolled toward the bathroom.

_ Sam.

He paused, hand on the handle.

_ What happened?

Dean nodded toward the unusually tired archangel. Sam shook his head minutely.

_ What you think?

_ Well. I'll accompany the Lady to her room, and you two better be out of the shower when I come back.

Sam shrugged and came in.

_ Want you.

He dropped his misbehaving charge on the basin cabinet. Gabriel was still wrapped in the blanket and sported dark circles under his eyes.

_ You're exhausted Gab'. Another day.

He started to strip, drawing in evil glint in his lover's feral eyes.

_ It... will it happen again?" He asked worriedly.

Gabriel shook his head, it had been a combination of circumstances pretty much unlikely to happen again. How comforting...

He finally bent to Gabriel's wish and took him in shower. There lay the advantages to be tall and well build and have a small magical lover: Sam could easily lift Gabriel, even when doing _interesting things_ and Gabriel just had to keep the water warm and steady. It did derail toward the end, both loosing focus to pleasure benefit.

The cold shower following their quick orgasm had them both still laughing when they get out of the bathroom, Sam clad as his usual, Gab' simply wearing dark blue panties with small pink hearts. Dean glared half-heartedly and went to his bed.

_ So... care to tell?

He had the tact to let the two lovebirds settle in Sam's bed before resuming the hostilities.

_ I mean, I know that with all this running Sam's quite hard-wearing. Still, you're supposed to be the tougher one angel. You look toasted.

_ I lashed out. Don't worry, your car is pristine and I'll be good after the night. Now, shut up." was the grumpy answer he got.

Well... At least, he was pretty sure those two wouldn't get at it again with him just besides them.

* * *

Plouploupidou...

Hope you didn't worry too much for Gab'.

Till next time.


	22. Chapter 22 - Marche à l'ombre

**Marche à l'ombre - Renaud**

(Lit : Walks in the Shadow ; fam. Get Scarce)

* * *

Dean awoke with a start, Gabriel's anguished face right in front of him. He reared back and swore softly. What the heck?

_ You need to wake Sam up.

He was full awake in an instant. Where they under attack? Why would Gabriel need Dean to wake up his brother, he was right there?

_ Because I can't reach him! He's the one under attack.

The blond angel was growing frustrated, that couldn't bode well for Dean's physical integrity if he did not comply promptly. He got up and took a look at his brother.

Sam was looking peacefully asleep, not even a scrunch of his nose or a frown to indicate any discomfort. He looked up to meet Gabriel's glare: "Wake. Him. Up. Now!"

So, still at loss, Dean tried to call Sam, several times, with about every nick name he ever used for him while shaking his shoulder, starting by the one he hated the most. To no avail. Maybe there really was something amiss.

Anguish started to rise in his chest too, "Dammit Sammy, Wake the Hell up!"

Sam woke up so suddenly Dean jumped back with a small, not too manly, cry of surprise.

_ Dude, what was that?

His poor little heart was still beating furiously, angry about having been mistreated. Sam, now engulfed in an octopus-angelic mix hold didn't answer, nor even looked at him. It was Gabriel who took the bait.

_ _That_ was your brother stupidly closing up his mind when he sleeps and my brother taking the liberty to share his dreams.

Dean frowned at Sam's aborted try at denial.

_ Yeah... he did that _once_. When Sam learnt about being Lucifer's designated meatsuit.

Yeah... that's what he thought.

_ How many times Sammy?

No, no, he wouldn't let himself be sidetracked by those puppy eyes, or dismissive shrug.

_ Not that much...

_ How many?" This was Gabriel, who managed to sound both coaxing and worried. A good combination, but apparently not enough to get the best of Sam's stubbornness.

_ I don't know.

_ So... enough that you can't even recall each." Dean drawled. He sounded harsh and judgmental, he knew it. He was mostly worried, angry at Sam for still keeping things hidden from him and at himself for not noticing.

_ Sam?

_ Not that often, and it's not that bad either. Most of the time he's just trying to make me agree: promises me things I might want, threatens me with visions of the future, blabs a lot...

_ How often is 'not that often' according to you? So your mind would get _used to shut down_ whenever he's there.

Dean didn't even bother to ask about the 'not that bad', he knew Sam's definition of that one. With both his brother and his lover insisting, Sam finally relented: two, three times a week since the first one. Dean punched a wall. Couldn't have Sam told him?

_ You have your own nightmares to deal with. And I would never have said yes anyway. I didn't find it necessary to burden you further. There was nothing you could do anyway.

It hit Dean that, lately, Sam has taken the habit to go running in the morning about as often as about twice to three times a week. He had already said it but "Dammit!"

_ So since it happens so often and Gabe has been around for a while now. Why did it raise the red flag only then?

_ Maybe because I'm now better acquainted with Sam's soul. Or most likely, because my (insert sarcasm here) dear brother has been misbehaving more than his usual.

Sam nodded, still trapped in Gabriel's embrace, and not in a hurry to get away.

_ He just found out it was you. Erm.. He felt one of his siblings yesterday, but apparently he was too far away to figure out which one, he suspected Michael, for reasons. So when he came by tonight to realize it was you, the supposedly dead one, he got a bit angry.

Sam let Gabriel land a few kisses on his face and lips before being able to keep on with his retelling.

_ He thought Heaven had you locked up, faked your death to use you later or something. That we're playing with them. I'm not sure exactly...

_ And what did you tell him?

_ Nothing." Sam shrugged at their looks. "Just that we'll meet him tomorrow, well, today, at 8 a.m. and you'll tell him yourself.

Dean nodded, that wasn't exactly the timing they had planned but it should be alright. Carthage was cleared; Bobby, Ellen and Jo were on their way back to Sioux Falls. The meeting would only need Gabriel, Sam and himself anyway.

Their aim wasn't to stand up to the Devil, despite Dean's feeling they should try to find a way to kill or lock him up. He had been outnumbered by an Archangel who hoped he could get his brother back and _his_ brother too smitten to think straight.

The only up-side was that, Sam and he were needed alive and, according to Gabriel, Lucifer wasn't equipped to kill him. At least, not before they had time to take away if shit were to happen. Shit would probably happen: they were the Winchesters after all.

It was still quite early but it was also pretty clear no-one would get more sleep today, so they quietly packed up their things, gave the key back to a sleepy employee and headed toward the field.

This time they drove all the way to the fields. It was no longer the time for stealth. The sun's lights were barely showing above the sky line: "It never hurts to be early".

They weren't the only ones. A lone silhouette was standing by a darker spot on the ground Dean couldn't quite yet make out.

_ Gabriel's wings." Sam whispered softly. Not enough that the guy down there didn't hear. He looked up to them. So... that's what Lucifer looked like when he wasn't wearing Sam.

Dean could feel Gabriel straighten up and Sam brace himself besides him. He looked toward his brother, two questions in mind. Sam looked back, a bit pale, but nodded.

Ok. It's show time.

They went down the slope, Gabriel in the lead, Sam to his left, Dean to his right. Half a step behind him.

_ I wondered who could have pulled that scam since those two aren't smart enough to do it on their own. I shouldn't have, really. Fancy seeing you there brother; I was under the impression you were dead lately." Lucifer, short sandy hair and peeling skin, greeted them.

_ Hi, Luci. Fancy seeing you there too, last time I check, you were supposed to be sitting in a corner and reflect about your misbehavior. And, you might not want to make the same mistake as our brethren upstairs and underestimate those kids. They hadn't had many occasions to use their brains so far but they are fast learner.

Dean scoffed, Sam smiled at the jab. That was quite true; their father wasn't really the "plan things out" type. Or... he made the plans and ordered his children around.

_ Why are you here Gabriel?

That sounded more like a command than a question, and would have made cower many brave men. Gabriel flashed his brother a dazzling smile and answered with his usual cheek.

_ Can't a brother miss their favorite sibling?

Lucifer stood straighter and crossed his arms, not buying it. Dean grunted, the guy was taller than him. Gabriel sauntered around his brother, Sam and Dean stood their ground.

_ Nice fellow. What's his name? How did you get him?

_ Nick, he lost his family, an adorable wife and a chubby baby. It was quite easy.

The easy and dismissive way Lucifer was talking about the man he has invaded made Dean close his fists. He was the Devil, not care in the world about anything besides his little self. What were they even doing here?!

He felt Sam's firm hand on his. Reminding Dean this wasn't about them. Not for the moment. He rolled his eyes and unwound, barely. It was enough for Sam to let go and resume his stance.

_ You have always been the best at tricking people around. You taught me after all.

_ Thanks. Who's yours? The feel's fuzzy.

_ No one, I made it myself. How do you like it?

Gabriel extended his arms and made a pirouette in front of his smirking brother, always at safe distance.

_ Not bad. For a meatsuit. Human shape doesn't make you justice though. You came with that car?

Lucifer pointed at Baby not too far away. Gabriel shrugged carelessly, but made a point in not looking behind him.

_ Yes. Homey, isn't it. A bit slow though. Car sex's fun.

According to his grimace, Sam hadn't found it so funny.

_ Will do better next time sweetie.

_ Promise?

_ There won't be a next time." Dean growled while Lucifer made a funny face, between startled, disgusted and impressed.

_ You had sex with _my vessel_?

_ Nope! Your vessel's Nick. You said so a minute ago." Gabriel cocked his head in mild confusion. "Is senility a side effect of being grounded for so long?

Dean was about certain Lucifer would strike after that one; he laughed, a cheerful, thrown head laugh.

Gabriel was testing the ground. It's been a long while since he last saw his sibling, and even longer since they lost their complicity, the day Gabriel had refused to stand besides Lucifer against Michael, the Host and Humanity.

He had no idea what the Cage, the solitude, could have done to Lucifer. Above them, the stars were vanishing one after another as the sun rose. Soon there will be only one, before the sun's light would outshine them all.

_ So, how come you're still alive?

That was a genuine question. That was a good sign, meaning Lucifer could still get interested into something that wasn't destruction and revenge.

So Gabriel told him, his brilliant idea of faking his death, his hiding on Earth, amongst the pagans. His little tricks. They were archangels, they didn't need to speak to communicate; it didn't take long.

_ Upstairs didn't know either. Or they would have hunted me down. I mean _that's_ not very legal." He made a gesture toward his own homemade body.

_ That one's a lie little brother. It feels weird, but there _is_ a soul tied to you.

_ That must be mine then." It was Sam who finally got the time to gather his bearings and stand a bit firmer in front of the Devil who had made an attempt at torturing him a mere hour ago.

Lucifer looked at them, really looked, so long Sam started to squirm a bit, then stubbornly stilled himself.

_ I see... you've been busy brother. But you do realize that Sam's mine, and you won't get to keep your toy for much longer.

_ Nope, Sam's mine. Gabriel only got him on a loan. You're stuck with Nick. And apparently, the poor guy don't have much time left.

Gabriel smirked, Dean's singlemindedness could be exasperating sometimes, but other times it got things like that. And that was beautiful; the boy was always true to his word. Even if it could take months or years to keep his promises, or threats.

_ That you believe little man, but what's written is written, there is no escape.

_ Maybe. But we have a trickster up our sleeve, and that wasn't really foretold, or you wouldn't have been surprised by his appearance.

Now Dean could make out the shape of burnt grass: wings shapes. Six enormous wings. He shot an impressed look at the small angel, who in turn, stuck his tongue to him.

Lucifer shifted. Dean's last sentence might have struck somewhere and he was growing rapidly impatient.

_ Why are you here?

Foreplay's time was over. Dean straightened, Sam drew his hands behind his back, Gabriel's cheerful expression slid down his face.

_ We came to make you an offer." Sam moved forward, elbow to shoulder with Gabriel. Dean stayed a bit behind, hands in his jacket's pockets oil and lighter at the ready, just in case. Like Raphael, it wouldn't hold Lucifer, it still should slow him down enough to get far away before he struck.

_ Listening.

_ You make a break, get some holidays, go visit some lost beaches, or the highest mountains, why not walk up to the Gange springs? Or decide where the Nile takes its source? Basically: get lost.

Lucifer spread his arms theatrically, laughter and contempt on his face.

_ Why? Why? Yes of course, when asked so nicely.

Then he crossed his arms and put a finger on his shin.

_ And... What about : No.

_ Wouldn't the smart move be asking what's in it for you first?

Lucifer barely spared a glance at Dean, eyes still fastened on his long lost traitorous sibling.

_ I was asking you brother, not your pet monkeys.

_ Aw... come on, they're not that bad when you get to know them. I mean, I did spent a few thousand years amongst humans. I grant you some are quite beyond ... everything. You should know, those end up your place anyway. I might even have sent you some of them.

Gabriel made a theatric pose.

_ Is this when I say thanks?

Lucifer's comment literally dripped with sarcasm, Gabriel beamed at him as if he has been presented a gift.

_ You're very welcome brother. Still, from my count, there are many more upstairs than down there. Should mean something. And I really have a certain fondness for this one." He pointed at Sam "I'd rather have you please refrain from torturing him again, mentally or physically.

His voice was all trickster to the boys, false laughter and hard edges all around.

_ It was just a little push!

Lucifer whining like a five years old was a sight worth living for, even if they might not outlive that for long. Gabriel kept starring until his elder brother gave in. Then mouthed toward Sam 'telltale!'.

Dean rolled his shoulders to unwind them, his whole body was taut. A retell of the two archangels' words and overall behavior could never explain the tension. Even with both his eyes and full attention focused on the two beings, he couldn't point anything to explain this. They _felt_ like two gigantic hounds turning around each other, evaluating the threat, ready to strike any moment, never getting their attention off each other.

Something they couldn't see was happening at higher levels.

Dean realized he must have been out of his mind when trying to kill the Devil with a gun. Even if it's the Colt. Those two were way out of their league, Winchesters or not, and he was trying hard not to feed cowed about that.

Very hard.

Hence the wound up shoulders. He wished they were done already, thousands years apart. What a rift to fill in.

Dean glanced toward his own brother. Four years apart had hurt. Forty had been literally Hell. He sure hoped he would never have to miss Sam for four hundreds, even less thousands.

_ It's getting late, past noon, time to feed your pets. So... brother: what's your conclusion?

_ I don't know. What do you think? Wanna try?

Silence fell. And spread. And stretched all the way to Sunday, add some more.

_ I haven't entirely lost my battle against my darkness because my brother never failed me, never turned his back on me and always kept trying bringing me back home.

Sam piped in again. Somehow, this time he managed to get Lucifer's full attention. Stood straight under his scrutiny.

_ Two of yours turned against you, and the last one failed you. Until now. So, Lucifer: ready to start the fight again, or have you already lost to it?

_ What... does he know. What did you tell him?

It was startled, directed at Gabriel. But this time Lucifer's eyes were still glued to Sam.

_ "What's happening up there, shall happen down here too". We are kind of custom-made to be your vessels. So... if my mind has been poisoned by demon blood, I guess something poisoned you too.

_ He's good at guessing when properly prompted.

Lucifer nodded, thoughtful.

_ I am sorry Luci. I am sorry I let you behind. I didn't want to die.

Dean could give them that, baby brothers really had an uncanny ability to look cute, remorseful and cuddly when saying sorry.

_ I just want my family back. You're part of it. Is it too late? Am I too late? Luci?

_ You know it's not possible Gabriel.

And there might be genuine regret on his face.

_ If dad hasn't written it. It can't happen!" He spread hi arms to emphasize his point.

Dean idly wondered if he spread his wings too.

_ Screw you daddy crappy writing skills! Here, now, it's about what _you_ want.

Sam started at Dean's words, then kept quiet again. Maybe he should have broken Chuck's fingers...

_ They can do it brother. Humans can do it. I...

Gabriel wavered, should he do it? It was... huge, could be devastating if Lucifer made the wrong call. Then he looked up, to the stars that couldn't be seen in the sun light. Lucifer always loved their Father's creation. More than any of them.

_ I have something to show you.

He moved forward, slipped his hands around his brothers wrists and tug a bit to get eyes to eyes. He heaved a breath then unwound slowly his memories from the previous night.

 _Brother, meet Sam Winchester._

Starting from the moment when Sam pulled over, near the trees. Him finally sharing his conflicted mind and raw feelings, all his passions, his emotions. And Gabriel taking it all. And a bit more, a bit too much.

Gabriel's misbehaving grace, his attempt at controlling the damages. And above all, the place he ended up in as a result.

This young beautiful whole universe, creating and expanding, its ever changing undying song. So full of promises, of life.

He kept him coming back for himself: that was solely to be between Sam and him.

_ What is it?

Lucifer could easily tell this wasn't the universe they were actually in, neither in the past, nor the future.

_ That's _Sam_.

Gabriel hasn't let go of his wrists and it has been a very long time he has last felt so earnest. Lucifer glanced at the two boys still standing a few steps away. The Righteous Man looked a bit flustered, and the Boy King more like curious.

_ He has...

_ Human souls, Dad's masterpiece. He loves so much metaphors we tend to forget he can be pretty literal when he fancies it.

Lucifer looked up again and found Dean Winchester on the left. His eyes traveled to the right, to Samuel Winchester, over his own brother's head. Looked between them a few times before settling on Sam.

_ Have you any idea what you're doing?

_ Toss an idea: if everyone agrees it's crazy, do it.

The answer didn't seem to suit the Devil who stared at Sam some more before letting go and come back to Gabriel.

_ I believed they might be able to do it long ago. I was sure they could when they decided to enroll me. Now? I just know they will.

_ You are putting a lot of faith in those humans brother.

_ Yes. I do. So are you with us? To give Daddy's plan a great "screw you"?

_ I must say you got me... curious, about what your monkeys can do. _I_ have all the time in the world after all.

Reminder that Pestilence and Famine were still to deal with and could end humanity without the Devil's help.

_ We'll deal with the Horsemen." Dean forwarded with certainty.

_ And we'll call it a draw on Death. Let it where it is.

_ You sure about that brother?

There was a stony edge to those last words, made Dean wonder what it entailed to 'not bring' Death, besides the spared lives.

_ I'm sure." Gabriel answered with his own brand of stone.

_ Humm...OK. I might step back a little, for a while. Just for fun.

Gabriel beamed, and slid his hands of his brother's wrists.

_ What's that? Contract seals?" Lucifer wasn't even mad; he knew Gabriel has been genuine. He was more like curious about the bracelets Gabriel had put around his wrists. "Feels like your sword.

They were well adjusted, and heavily engraved, it must have taken a lot of work.

_ Because it is. Made it myself, with Cassie's help. Supposed to dissipate the excess energy you produce and keep your vessel from bursting out. You shouldn't be able to use your powers either, though. How do you like it?

_ Useful.

* * *

I used up all my extra chapters. So from now on, the publication will slow down to about one per week.

See ya.


	23. Chapter 23 - déjeuner en paix

**Déjeuner en paix - Stephan Eicher**

Breakfast in Peace

* * *

It was already well into the night when Sam finally reached Singer Salvage. Gabriel, his back against the door and his feet tucked under Sam's thigh, yawned loudly and put down Sam's laptop.

Don't ask how he could stream films on a powerless device in the middle of nowhere with no wifi, the only answer you'd get would be "Magic".

He snapped his fingers and the laptop was safely back in its bag, in the trunk.

_ You didn't need to stay you know.

Sam spoke softly as he turned the engine off.

_ It must be boring to just sit there with not much to do.

_ I'm here because I want to Sam. You know, when you are as old as me, you don't mind 'wasting' some time doing nothing and simply enjoy the company.

What was he supposed to do when being told that kind of thing? Especially when you knew Cass, for example, hated travel by car because it was too slow.

He kissed his angel, softly. Then a little less when his devilish lover wriggled his tongue inside his mouth. Until a snore from the backseat interrupted them. There must be some curse with that car.

_ He's cute when he's asleep.

Gabriel has crossed his arms over the backrest and was looking at Dean. It reminded Sam the perfect picture of parents over their baby cribs you can see on TV.

_ Like you.

_ Except that I never sleep.

_ I know.

_ That's mean.

_ You're always cute.

_ ... mmm, nice catch up. But,... admit it: that's just for my ass.

_ For your ass, and everything above, and under. Mostly the ass." Sam admitted shameless, with a cocky grin.

_ Can' wait for tonight." Gabriel ogled Sam's ass in response.

_ Let's wake up Dean and get inside first.

Sam got out of the car to retrieve their bags, giving his admirer a better view at his rear end. Apparently letting the 'wake Dean up' to Gabriel. An impish smile spread on his lips. Don't tempt a Trickster.

A few seconds later, a very wet, very pissed Dean, dripping rosy water, jumped out of the car, screaming murder. Soon followed by a counterpoint of loud barking.

_ Will you shut up and get inside boy! Feather stop aggravating that boy, he has enough of a bad temper without you adding to it.

Dean didn't answer the jab, there were raised eyebrows though; like an 'excuse me bitch' he wouldn't dare say aloud.

_ Step up boys, the soup is on the stove.

_ Bean soup?" Sam whispered near his brother's ear, then tossed him two bags to carry and retrieved more from the car.

It turned out to be tomato-potato soup. Made by Ellen before she headed with Jo to a flat they rented for the moment.

And quite edible, especially when you were starving. But that wasn't enough. Both boys being a bit toast and shaky, Gabriel took over the kitchen and cooked a quick something while they polished off the soup with bread.

_ Next time you should wear an apron. The 'French maid' kind.

_ Dean, shut up." Retorted Sam tiredly. The day hasn't been that long, but facing Lucifer with no weapon (no weapon that could do anything to him whatsoever) had been nerve wrenching.

He couldn't believe they managed to get him to agree. Somehow.

Well... Sam was one to know that the youngest archangel had a knack to make himself lovable and twist people around his pinky. He had been caught too.

_ Get a room..." Sam glared at his brother. "What? You're almost devouring his ass with your eyes.

_ Later, my man needs some fuel before." Gabriel put a pan with a delicious smelling mix of white meat, red, green and yellow veggies, rice and a lot of spices. "Feel free to join anytime.

Sam chuckled softly at Dean spluttering. He should know by now that any teasing could and would backfire on him when Gab' was around.

The dinner was wrapped up pretty quickly, Gabriel dragged Sam up-stairs, Dean went to the basement, where Cass was again standing watch over Meg.

_ Hi Cass. How's she?

The angel saluted him from his position on a barrel. Not that he was the kind to get tired from standing up, might have picked up some human habits not to make them feel too awkward.

_ Still comatose from whatever Sam did to her.

Dean perked up at this. He thought Bobby would have taken care of this by now. Gabriel did warn them that it would lock the two girls together, and might be awful for the poor soul trapped in there. He handed his mug to Cass, clear coffee and a drop of whiskey, (rough day facing the Devil, he was entitled) and opened the door.

He could hear Castiel put the mug down and stand beside him, as close as he could with the warding, ready to fight if needed be. Dean swiped the sigils from her forehead. He didn't know what he expected, probably Meg to jump out like a devil in the box.

She woke up slowly, a bit disoriented. Dean wasn't even sure who was up at the moment. She didn't look like she was recognizing him. But it could be a trap. He got out of the room but kept the door open, dragged a stool and sat on it.

_ Meg?

No answer. Then he remembered, Sam told him the girl's name.

_ Raquel?

_ Yes... maybe...

She looked up to him, curiously. Taking in his features.

_ I think I remember you... you are still young.

_ It's been only three days Raquel.

She looked like a mountain has been dropped on her. Fuck. And fuck Gabriel who hasn't told them that there were time laps on his little crafted spell. Dean got up in anger and drew a hand over his short hair.

_ This is not time lap Dean. The mind always goes much faster when freed from the flesh. That's why a five minutes dream seems like a day, or several.

This was why four months in Hell felt like forty years too...

_ I'm sorry. For everything that has happened to you. Really.

She snorted softly, too worn down to do more.

_ I was a mess long before she came by anyway. You're not to blame. I've met humans much worse than her. She just wants the same thing as most people: a nice place to be.

_ Does she hear us?

_ Want to talk to her?

Dean nodded sideways and drew a burner phone out of his pocket.

_ Not exactly, I have a message for her, from her... Boss.

She nodded, seated on the dusty floor.

_ She's listening.

Dean pressed a few buttons and played the message. Basically, it was Lucifer telling Meg he had agreed to let them do things their way for a while and to stop bothering them. Eventually help if she felt like to.

_ That's bullshit.

_ I'd say nice to see you again Meg, but that would be a lie. And it's real. Even if... I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it happen.

Seen it... that summed up pretty much the thing, he was there but had almost no part in it. Besides throwing one or two cheeky things not to be forgotten.

_ Apparently, just like anyone else, he just want his family back and a nice place to be.

She sneered and he was just glad the place was filled with so many demon traps and all, she could do nothing more.

_ Ok. That's your call girl.

He got up and closed the iron door to her face. Then finished his retrieved mug. The meeting with Lucifer had really been nerve wracking. To the point he had only been able to drive for about an hour after they finally left. The tension wearing off had literally knocked him out. He had pulled over, ejected Gabriel from the back seat and fell into a comatose sleep before Sam had time to get to the driver seat.

He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was still a bit shaky from it all.

Dean beckoned Cass to follow upstairs, would be more comfortable for him, and Castiel had already proved he could monitor their guest from up there.

_ Has Gabe filled you in with what happened this morning?

_ He shared the relevant information with me. It might not be my place but I do have some reservations about Lucifer's commitment to your plan.

_ That makes two us.

_ Then why did you agreed with it?

Dean took his time to answer.

_ Because we don't have many other options. You said yourself the Colt would be useless against him. Lucifer's the second son and the Trickster's mentor, meaning there is only two beings strong enough to kill him by brute force: Michael and God, and out-trick him is pretty much impossible. What else do we have than the off chance we might somehow reconcile him with his brothers?

_ Michael won't listen to you Dean. He is... very keen on following Dad's Word. If you manage to get to him. He hasn't been seen of heard from anyone but Raphael himself ever since.

_ So the teenage mutant turtle with anger issues took over running Heaven? No wonder it's a mess up there.

Cass stared but didn't pick up the fight. Heaven _was_ a mess since Lucifer had been thrown in the cage, God and Gabriel went missing and Michael into a cosmic sulking fit.

_ Anyway, I don't think you can convince Michael to step back from this. He is... pretty much like you.

_ I wasn't the one who convinced Lucifer. It was Gabriel.

_ Gabriel always had a connection with the Morning Star he didn't have with the First Born. And I cannot imagine our fallen brother being able to convince Michael to not throw him back into the cage or kill him. It would be preposterous.

Dean smiled. Cass' odd phrasings never ceased to be funny.

_ I can speak three hundred and thirty five languages Dean from old Abyssinian to Quechua or Greek, both ancient and actual. I won't apologize for not being aware of yours's most recent developments.

Dean saluted at that.

_ Gabe taught you that too?

If angels could blush...

An angel passed by. Then something Dean (thankfully) couldn't hear drew his angel's attention to the ceiling.

_ Are..?.

_ Our brothers having sex again? Yes.

_ I don't understand. Sex seems ... boring and quite repetitive.

It was Dean's turn to blush a bit. That was crude. It reminded him of Zach's future's Cass : addicted to sex and pot.

_ If sex wasn't enjoyable, there would be no babies.

_ Our brothers cannot have a baby.

_ Technicalities Cass. And it doesn't make it less enjoyable, just... fruitless. I guess it depends on the people, but I like sex because it's simple and it feels good. Sam's more a 'I feel for this one so I want sex with them' person.

The angel didn't sound convinced. Well... as far as he knew, angels weren't supposed to have gender, nor flesh in their true form. The brothel might have been a bit too much. Not his best idea, but they had been a bit short of time at the moment.

_ Maybe if you stick around long enough, you'll find someone who will make you want to. That's not something that can be understood if you don't experience it.

Then he changed subject.

_ Just out of curiosity, your friend, is he really the "Melchior Gaspard and Balthazar" Balthazar?

* * *

When Gabriel had dragged him up the stairs, Sam was mentally all in for some sexy time with the blond. But he was so tired he wasn't sure he could hold his part into sex.

Luckily, Gabriel didn't seem to be into rough acrobatic sex either. He made Sam seat on the edge of the bed, took seat on his lap and started to land soft kisses all over his face. Slowly. He stripped Sam, layer after layer. Then stripped himself, as slowly. Let Sam's hands feel his skin, his heat. Drag him closer until they melted against each other.

From this up close, Sam could see the strain on his face, the deeper crinkles of his eyes. Angels didn't tire, but confronting his brother like he did, having no clue how it might end up, must have been wearing him off too.

Sam loved that Gabriel was so small; it made it easy to just wrap himself around him and be his bubble. Super-powered super-beings and all, in the end, they were as fragile as anyone.

They made love tenderly.

It was pretty much a new thing to Sam. One he could consider getting accustomed to. Especially now, in the after-climax, spooned against Gabriel's back, the archangel lazily playing with his hand.

He smiled. What was the off chance Gabriel would fit exactly with his ass in the crook between Sam's thigh and belly and the top of his head just under his shin without choking him?

He moved to kiss a shoulder. Laced his fingers with the smaller hand. He was feeling good.

More than good in fact.

Comfortably nested against his lover's body, Gabriel could feel a smile on his lips, and tears sliding down his cheek. Sam was always less guarded when having sex, or after. Not a side effect, it was deliberate. Sam wanted Gabriel to know he wasn't using him as a replacement or a diversion. That he wanted to be with _him_.

Meaning he knew exactly when a little flame sparked to life. He knew exactly when the beginning of the end started.


	24. Chapter 24 - J'irai ou tu iras

**J'irai où tu iras - Jean-Jacques Goldman / Celine Dion**

(Wherever you go, I'll go)

* * *

_ No. End of discussion! You. Don't.

_ I do think you are forgetting who you are talking to, boy. I am not to be ordered around like you usually do.

_ What do you mean by that?!" Dean was spluttering.

_ Exactly what I said: you order people around you like some over ranked officer, barely consider that they might have a mind on their own. Hmm... sounds like _someone_ , doesn't it?

It was the middle of the evening at the salvage. Jo was on her shift at a local dinner and Ellen helping Bobby get some parts for a car.

It was unexpectedly warm for the season and the researches for the Horsemen weren't going as quickly as they hoped. Lucifer had agreed to stay on the bench for a while, not to actually help and Meg was still being stubborn.

Dean hasn't been on a hunt for too long. Jo was more or less pressing him to step up their affair, despite the dates, dinners, movie-theaters, the neck-lace with an anti-possession symbol he gave her for Christmas. The end of January was coming, and Dean was kind of dreading the next big 'gift day'.

Dean was not in a good mood.

Gabriel was not in a good mood.

And Sam was tired of playing middle man.

Then a call from one of John's old friend had come to light up the powder keg. Martin was claiming a monster had been killing patients in the mental hospital he was. Gabriel didn't want them to go, for a reason he was reluctant to disclose. Dean countered that they couldn't let a case unsolved (a monster on a killing spree alive) and asked if Gabriel would do it himself.

Gabriel agreed.

Dean ... didn't.

Sam wished he had angelic powers right now and throw them both in the middle of a lake, or the Pacific.

_ Gabriel, do you know what's the creature there?

_ Yes.

_ Do we know that kind of creature?

_ Don't think so. It's not in your book. Nor in any I've seen here so far. It's easy to kill. Much less to spot, especially because it feeds on brains. The crazier the.. tastier.

_ And it can make people go crazy to fit its taste.

_ Pretty much.

_ Ok. Go then. Take my appearance and make sure to reassure dad's friend before you come back.

Dean went to protest but a stare from Sam shut him up. He didn't like that look, it was hard and commanding. A look he had been used to comply to from a very young age. Good thing Sam didn't use it often. Only when he though Dean was really going too far.

And even then, he hadn't dared do it until recently.

Sam kissed his angel good-byes and the short blond flew away.

_ Promise, we'll find ourselves a nice chuppacabra or werewolf hunt and go there. You're being impossible when you don't have your pound of flesh for too long.

That was a low blow. It made Dean look like a bloodthirsty beast himself.

_ That's not it. You know that. I could very well do without the gore.

He tried for indignant, he only sounded dejected. All anger gone with the archangel.

_ I know. I also know you don't do well sitting in a spot waiting for a shoe to drop and no outlet for your frustration.

Talking about frustration...

The most frustrated one wasn't him for once.

_ Dean?

He looked up from above his raised hands.

_ I.. do not mean to pry nor want to be creepy. But. What's holding you back? You tested clear. She obviously wants you. Are you having second thoughts?

Not weird at all.

Dean wasn't having second thoughts, he was having third and forth. And maybe a bit more. Couldn't Sam see it? What's it obvious he wasn't boyfriend material? He had absolutely no idea of what he was doing with Jo; Sam had gone to searching for rings with Jess. Couldn't Sam tell that Dean wasn't like him? That no matter what, he couldn't let go, and step away from...them as easily as Sam had? Whatever that 'them' was.

He didn't say any of it. Just cracked a joke so disgusting Sam scrunched-up his nose and changed subject. He wasn't proud, but there were things that he just couldn't let out. Ever.

He went out, polish Baby, do some adjustments. He kind of wished she was alive again. Or find a way to get her to come and go without needing to ask Gabriel. That big cat would a Hell of a help in battle. Or when he wanted some company that wouldn't ask more of him than some scratching behind the ears.

When he looked over to see if he missed any spot, his Baby had a new ornament: a radiator cap, where there were absolutely no need to, looked like a cat with a label tied around its neck.

"Glad you didn't wish it were a woman, would be gross."

So... apparently, wishes worked like prayers. Good to know... He twisted the cap then got soon an armful of warm, rough, black fur.

The afternoon stretched pleasantly into a soft early evening.

He looked up when a bottle appeared into his field of vision, beer. That was quickly replaced with a flavored sparkling-water when he aborted his grasping gesture.

Sam sat beside him, uncorking the beer for himself, pat the panther's head when she sniffed at his knee. Then she curled back around Dean's ankles, satisfied with the newcomer.

They stayed silent for a while, simply there.

_ He likes you, you know." Sam had finished his drink and was fiddling with the bottle.

_ Fancy way to show it.

Dean wasn't sure he wanted to talk about his brother's lover right now. He could feel Sam shift besides him and ruffle a bit the beast rough fur. She purred and gave him a lick when he reached a soft spot.

_ He did give you Baby.

_ Looks at bit like trying to soften your lover's guardian.

_ He does like you." Sam insisted softly. "Else, he wouldn't waste his energy getting mad at you.

_ Then why does he keep biting my head off ?" Dean grumbled finishing his own drink.

_ I'm not sure, I'd say probably because you're a bit too much like his brother.

Dean nodded, not entirely convinced. He played with Baby, annoying her with his bottle until she pawed it and send it flying across the yard. He rubbed his hand. He knew Gabriel made sure she wouldn't purposefully arm him but she was a wild, strong, massive beast.

_ And Jo? Don't tell me Gabriel secretly cares about her too, I wouldn't believe you.

Sam put him own bottle besides him, extended his long legs in front of him to lean on his elbows over the upper stair.

_ You're right, Gabriel don't give a fuck about her. She wasn't supposed to outlive Carthage anyway.

Name a weirder thing than your brother casually telling you your girlfriend should be dead.

_ She wasn't supposed to be your girlfriend either.

_ That's why he's against her? I thought 'not supposed to be' was a good thing for us.

_ It is. But… there is another thing that wasn't supposed to be.

Dean could feel his brother's thigh against his hip, warm, comforting. And disturbing. He hated that Sam didn't seem fazed in the slightest by the over the top intimacy it created.

_ That night." Sam finished, looking up at the clouds above them, playing hide and seek with the rising moon.

Dean nodded. He didn't need Sam to specify which night he was talking about.

_ If Gabriel hadn't basically forced me to talk to you about that voicemail. I would never have, ever.

And none of them would have talked about everything that went after.

_ What does it have to do with Jo? Besides the fact it started the whole thing.

_ Gabriel and I don't agree with what happened that night means.

An engine motor approached, Sam stood straighter, waiting. Dean missed the warmth. The car came by and followed its path. Sam slouched back, drawing circles in the dirt.

_ How come?

_ Heaven, and mostly Zachariah, did their best to split us apart, turn us against each other. Gabriel thinks that, since that night we finally started to mend what they helped break, we should stick together more than ever.

Sam's thigh has moved a bit and was back against Dean's hip.

_ How can we get any closer? Besides becoming Siamese.

Sam gave a 'really?' look, but said nothing, giving Dean the opportunity to pretend it didn't happen.

_ It's conjoint twin by the way.

_ Shut up. Keep going: what do _you_ think?

_ That this is not necessary.

Well... The new Sammy certainly didn't sugarcoat things.

_ I mean... no matter who, no matter what or when. They can try to drag us apart as far or as long they want. I know we'll always find a way back toward each other. I agreed to be yours, and it makes you mine, that's a truth nothing would ever change.

That could figure amongst the cheesiest tirade out of the cheesiest movie ever. Said by Sam, with calm and confidence, it was... just right. But even if it wasn't 'necessary' as Sam said, it didn't mean Dean wanted it. There was no way he was gonnat say it though. But damn: he didn't want to have to miss his brother again.

_ I'm there Dean, we don't need to be into each other pocket all the time to stay brothers, doesn't mean I want to go away either. Trust me, someday, you'll get tired of having me on your back and regret you never took the chance to get a life for yourself. Maybe not now, but in ten, or ten thousand years.

This time, the car wasn't just passing by, they recognized Jo's car engine. Sam got up, picked up their bottles and pat Dean's shoulder when going to greet the girl. Dean could hear their chatter while unpacking the groceries.

There was not much love between Gabriel and Jo, they still managed to be courteous toward each other and accept their respective roles into the team. Except for Jo being Dean's girlfriend. It sure helped Sam to be comfortable again around her.

He wondered if the angel was against it because he felt Dean's own doubts about his commitment, or despite them. Maybe he should start to get used to not fall asleep to Sam's slow breath. For starters.

In fact, it was quite surprising Gabriel hasn't yet kicked Dean out of the bedroom he was staying in more often than not. It had been awkward at first, having Sam and his lover in the bed next to his. It had become easier with time to just pretend it didn't bother him, almost to the point it became true. As long as they weren't making out with Dean a few feet away.

He perked up when hearing his name in the conversation, but Sam must have closed a door or a window just after, because Dean couldn't even make out the rest of the talking.

Then his phone ringed: Cass.

_ Hi Cass. What's up?

There were weird wet noises at the other end of the proverbial line.

_ Cass. Are you munching on something?

_ Burgers.

Since when did Cass eat? Even Gabriel had yet to spark his baby bro's interest in culinary delights.

_ It seems that my vessel, Jimmy has an acute taste for rare meat.

Dean took a second to process.

_ Does that mean you found Famine, then?

_ Indeed. Famine, and seven demons are currently in the lobby of an Hotel with a Red Roof. Dean : why advertise about the color of a roof?

_ It's a flag signal, when you see an Hotel, or a building, with a red roof, that reminds you of the Brand.

_ I understand.

_ You come back and we plan?

_ I am afraid it wouldn't be a good idea. I, Jimmy has been infected, and me moving away might very well spread it faster.

_ You think it's catching like a bad flu?

_ I am not in a hurry to find out how easily it could spread.

_ Right. You got a point.

Cass was still munching while Dean was trying to think this out.

_ Cass. Are you safe? Do they know you are there?

_ I had Gabriel redo the paintings this morning, and Famine does not seem to have taken any interest in me so far.

_ Ok, just stay around, but not too close. Like, take a room and keep an eye on Famine whereabouts. I'll make a call to Bobby; we'll come to you as soon as he's back.

_ Understood.

They hung up and Dean came inside to bring the news to Sam and Jo.

Dean had in mind he would go with Sam and Bobby, but Jo made quite clear she didn't want to be left behind. And Sam didn't seem very eager to go. Nor to explain himself.

Not until Jo went outside to make the call and left them behind. Pressed by Dean, he nervously drew his hand through his hair, then down the nape of his neck.

_ Famine Dean, it's not only about food hunger, it about any craving one can have. I... I can't go Dean, neither can Bobby.

Oh...

OH... crap...

_ I thought you were cleansed. Like, Holy Detox.

_ You want to bet on that Dean?

Sam looked bad. And it was tearing Dean apart to ask him to come along. So yes, he wanted to bet on it and believe Sam was alright. But Sam was gone before he found the words to say it.

They had taken the habit to let Meg take a small walk outside every day, usually under Castiel supervision. So far a failed attempt to soften her. Today Sam volunteered.

_ Came to walk the dog Sammy?" She drawled as soon as he opened the door. He refrained for rolling his eyes and just put the demon trap adorned bracelet around her wrist. The trap Gabriel had wired around the whole yard was still holding, but she didn't need to know that.

She dragged him to the far end of the yard, making wide arm movement and little jumps.

_ So.. Clarence's not there today? Still on field trip?

_ He found Famine. Got infected, so he'll stay put until we reach to him.

_ I'm coming with you.

That was a surprise. She had made clear, many times, that she didn't want to have anything to do with them. And now she just seemed as imperative as the daughter of one of Hell's Generals could be.

_It's not me you'll have to convince, I can't go there.

She didn't answer to that. Just stared at him in contempt. Well, she could judge him all she wanted, he knew where he stood.

_ Famine, is starving. Always starving." She took a few steps toward him, she barely reached half his torso with all her height. "You think Lilith feeding off baby's tender flesh is bad? Famine feeds off Souls. Shining bright little pristine souls, or torn, or frayed. He's not that picky even if he has preferences.

Sam shuffled his feet on the dirt, but still : he would be a hindrance more than help there. Even if he hated the idea of letting Dean go without him.

_ The old drunk can't go, you reduced your angel to the point where he can't fight against his vessel's craving, the pretty girl won't stand a chance. And you... If you're being smart, you can get rid of him, easily.

_ Thanks for the pep' talk but no thanks. I'm not gulping demon blood to kick one ass and get through detox again. Once was more than enough. And, I'm done listening to a demon's advices.

She huffed testily: did they want her help or nor?

Sam was torn, if demons weren't affected by Famine's malevolence, having an helpful Meg around would be a good thing. But not knowing her reasons was at least annoying, and most certainly dangerous.

And about his going or not, he wished to go, wouldn't want his brother out of his reach, but as an ex-junky... especially with a demon coming alongside them.

Overall, it felt a bit too convenient to use his demonic-powers to get rid of the Horseman. Too obvious and down the road. Sam had learnt to be wary of obvious path.

* * *

In the previous chapters I might have called Jo, Joelle. It's Joanna of course and I apologize.

Someday I'll change that. From now on, I'll call her by her real name, of course.


	25. Chapter 25 - T'en va pas

**T'en vas Pas - Elsa**

(Don't go away)

* * *

In the end, Sam didn't get much voice to the team composition. Dean was as doubtful as _he_ was about Meg's sudden change of heart but after a call with Cass and some negocation with Bobby and Ellen it was decided Sam, Dean, Meg and Jo would join Castiel in the Horseman hunt.

Worst team ever in Sam's mind. Maybe that's why it might work. Though he had no idea how.

He tried to call Gabriel while Jo was adding her bag in Baby's trunk, to no avail: he ended up onto voicemail right away, he left a message to tell his lover where they were heading and not to worry. He decided to believe the Archangel had turned his phone off to avoid attracting too much attention, he still send Gab' a prayer, just to be sure.

Soon enough, they hoped in the car direction: the next Horseman. A step closer to 'The End of the Apocalypse'.

Since Dean was adamant about keeping an eye on the demon and Sam's legs couldn't allow him backseat, Meg seated shotgun. Dean went behind her, a gun at the ready and Jo behind Sam.

Jo had had a long shift work that day, they were barely into the second half-hour drive and Sam could already see her head on Dean's shoulder in the rear mirror. His brother caught on his smirk and made a rude gesture as retaliation.

He didn't move her though, not even when Meg turned toward him and snickered.

* * *

Gabriel looked at the man before him. He looked older than he should be, a bit jumpy, definitely scared by something, and very suspicious of him.

Coming in had been piece of cake : he's made a dummy cop that looked enough like Dean from afar that he could pretend, not enough from up close that the true owner of that sweet face could sue him. Then, he puppeteered the cop to bring him in for a mandatory psychologic evaluation. Five minutes into his speech about being the bringer of the Apocalypse, he was declared fit to enter the psych yard.

That had been the easy part.

That and find the former hunter hauled up into an asylum to escape the horrors from outside. He still was sane enough to tell in five seconds top that the tall man sitting in front of him was not Sam Winchester. And incidentally, squash a little further Gabriel's confidence into his own acting skills.

He had been made quite nicely and had to sit through three different kinds of exorcisms and be grazed by a silver necklace to prove he wasn't a demon possessing Sam, or a common shifter.

So, back to the questions the man just asked him: What are you, and why are you here?

And Gabriel was still pondering his answer to the paranoid hunter named Martin.

_ What you'd call a supernatural being for starters. And I'm here to help, mainly. I didn't want the boys to come near the thing lurking in your residence's shadows. They have enough on their plate as it is.

Martin nodded, even he had heard about the Apocalypse.

_ So, any idea about what kind of monster is killing off my fellows?

_ In fact, I know exactly what it is: a wraith.

The hunter paled, drew his hand over his face, trembling a bit. He knew of it, he wished he would never get the dubious chance to cross one.

_ No worry, I know who it is, and I'll take care of her swiftly. One perk about having a supernatural on your side : things get easier.

Gabriel gave the man credit for not pushing to know what kind of being he was. As long as he was on the 'right' side.

_ And the side reason you came?

The man might be mentally wrecked, he was still sharp.

_ You were a friend of John Winchester. I know bits and bouts about his relationship with Sam and Dean, mostly from the boys or Bobby Singer. I'd like to know more from someone less… invested.

_ An outside eye?

Gabriel leaned backward on his uncomfortable chair with a nod.

_ You still haven't convinced me you are not a threat, to me and to them.

The angel smirked and discreetly fished a phone out of his pocket and put it on the main screen. It was a picture of Sam, spread on a very recognizable sofa in Bobby's living room, reading a book, Gabriel dozing over his belly. Dean had taken the picture, and Gabriel loved it.

_ I'm with them. And a threat to anyone who would want the boys harm.

Martin looked up from the phone and took him in for a while. He handed the phone back, sadly not quickly enough that the rugby player build nurse wouldn't see and confiscate it. Gabriel shrugged inwardly; he would get it back pretty easily on his way out.

_ What do you want to know about John and his boys?

Gabriel leaned forward, elbows on the table, a human gesture he knew tended to get his interlocutor's attention.

_ There is one thing I have trouble understanding. I get the whole, former soldier going down when realizing his home was as a much as a battle ground than 'Nam, hitting the road filled with vengeance, grief and guilt. What happened that night is more than enough to fall into paranoia for anyone.

"I also understand why he would want his younger out of the business as much as he could, let him enjoy school and his studies as long as he stays out of trouble. Especially after realizing Sam is on Hell wish-list. I am bit more confused about why he would get angry at Sam wanting out and go to Stanford, since he didn't want him in, in the first place.

"What takes the cake is why, after telling his son never to come back he would brag about his Stanford boy to every fellow hunter.

Martin considered him for a while before leaning into his chair.

_ Why do you want to know that?

_ Because it pained Sam to learn about the last part. I want to know what's behind; but I also don't want to make it worse for Sam.

Gabriel answered truthfully, seeing no point in trying to play smartass on this. Martin's head nodded, like one of those puppy some people had behind their rear window, for so long Gabriel wondered if he wasn't falling asleep.

_ It makes no sense to you because you are missing a piece: Sam ran away once before. He was about sixteen at the time. John and I were on a wendigo hunt, the boys sat this one out. John didn't think they were ready for wendigos.

"It was a gruesome hunt. We got both pummeled pretty bad, and... we were too late to save its latest victim, a boy, barely twenty. It had hit John hard. We could just watch him bleed out, already half eaten, and burn his remains.

"So, when we got back and the boys weren't there.

Martin made a dramatic gesture, spreading his hands.

_ In one word, John was frantic. Until I pointed out that Sam's things were missing, all of them, when Dean's were still scattered around. It wasn't hard to add up things and conclude Sam took his leave, without Dean the wisest. I have never seen so much anger when realizing one of his sons ran away, nor so much relief when he realized it was just _one_ of them.

A lanky fellow interrupted the story when asking them if they had seen a Miss Kettle, whoever, or whatever, that miss could be. They both denied having seen Miss Kettle, the poor lad looked at them suspiciously a moment, then moved on to the next table.

Martin resumed his story.

_ By the time we finished patching our injuries up, Dean came back. Poor guy was devastated, he had spent the last two days searching for Sam. He probably hadn't slept since he had realized his brother was gone. John, just looked at him_ You could have filled an Olympic pool with the contempt he was dripping._ and said "If you haven't found him, why are you here?". The kid was already pale, he looked like a gosh, torn between wreaking into sobs and murdering his father. Finally he just turned around and left.

Martin hadn't stayed long afterwards. Later, he heard it took Dean two weeks to find Sam and bring him back.

Gabriel mulled over the new informations he had been given, turned them around and fit them into the picture he already had. The boys' codependent relationship, a mostly absent father, an obedient little soldier and a turbulent child.

Now there was a way this all made sense. Not one Gabriel liked, though. Probably not one that would make Sam feel better either.

From what he could see, the most likely reason of all this was that John wanted Sam away from the hunt, any college or sedentary job would have done the trick. But after Sam's first attempt at getting away from his family, Dean would never have let his brother go without him.

John had the choice between cutting all ties with his youngest and turn him into the traitor to his family, or loose both his sons. And since Dean would feel Sam had left him behind for the second time, his pride would prevent him to try and reach out for Sam. Sam wouldn't dare reach out to a brother who would scorn his for leaving the family. It was cruel, but practical.

It also created a rift between the boys that made Heaven and Hell's work all the more easy.

Gabriel nodded. Now he got it.

_ Who are you? And what are you doing there?! Mister. Mister!

Martin was up and on a fighting stance even before Gabriel got on his feet. Upon turning toward the ruckus, his disbelieving eyes fell upon Balthazar of all people, hurriedly strolling toward them, a pair of bulk nurses in tow.

_ Gabey, brother, glad I found you first. Holiday's over, we need to get going.

He was about to whisk them both away when Gabriel stepped back.

_ One moment Balthazar." He turned toward Martin and bit his good-byes to the hunter.

_ And the wraith?

_ It's the doctor who conducts so _thorough_ exams after admission." Gabriel answered flippantly with a suggestive wiggle of eyebrows.

A wave latter, the nurses were called toward more pressing matters than their weird intruder, one of the staff member just stab themselves with a silver letter-opener. Very unrefined, even crude, probably the worst job on Gabriel's book, but apparently they were in a hurry.

He let Balthazar lead them away.

* * *

Upon reaching town, after a stop for fuel and one to snack, Dean called Castiel back. The angel was still munching burgers, to the point even the elder Winchester found that nauseating. Well, if that made Cass happy as he said; that was it, at least.

_ Shall we join you now? Or do you come to us?

_ Do you have a plan? To get past Famine's guard and get his ring?

Dean had to admit they didn't have much of a plan.

_ It will be difficult as long as we don't know who will be afflicted with what and how much when we'll get there.

_ Gabriel shouldn't affected at all, his vessel does not have a soul to contaminate.

_ He's not there. Wanted to go on a hunt, hasn't come back yet.

Dean drew the phone from his ear and asked Sam whether he managed to get hold on his buddy.

_ Sam hasn't managed to reach him yet.

_ This is... worrisome.

Dean nodded, even if Castiel couldn't see him.

_ There is a small playground down what looks to be the main road, halfway through. It should be deserted at this time of the day, we might meet there.

Castiel gave them the directions then ended the call.


	26. Chapter 26 - J'ai faim de toi

**J'ai Faim de Toi -Sandy**

(You Make me Hungry)

* * *

They made a stop at a random drive-in to get some food and headed toward Cass' chosen place. When they arrived, Dean understood why this particular one. It looked quite like another place he and the angel had one of their first real talks.

Who knew their stoic friend was so sentimental after all?

They spread around a wooden table, dishes in the middle for anyone to pick up. Except Cass, given the speed he was chewing down his burgers.

_ How long before you empty the town supplies of red meat?

Cass looked up, starting to do the math, when Meg took the opportunity to rob him of his half eaten burger.

_ Don't sprain your brain Clarence, that's a rhetorical question.

_ Oh..." He stared at his empty hand.

Then Castiel simply dig one more time in his bottomless bag and started munching on a new burger. Once again, Meg distracted him and stole his other half.

That could have been cute with any other pair, this was almost creepy there.

Dean decided to not think about it and focus on the task at hand. He too darted briefs looks toward his brother, he seemed alright, for now.

Cass managed to take breaks between two mouthfuls to fill them in with about the same he told Dean on the phone: Famine was in town, slowly spreading his miasma around. It was discreet for the moment, mostly addicts and former ones were really impacted by it. There already were a few overdose and alcoholic-coma to pin on the Horseman.

Apparently, Castiel lack of food ingesting had triggered its very own case of craving for Jimmy.

Dean spared again a look at Sam. Sounded like he would be the most, or the only one affected there. They should have spared him the trip, even if it would have meant join Cass with just himself, Jo and Ellen.

Sam huffed.

_ I'm fine Dean. Not the time to come all mother-hen on me. Let's just find a way to get past Famine security guards and his ring off his hand.

They maintained eye contact for a while, but Dean could only back down, Sam's dither before going has vanished now, he was set onto doing what had to be done. He did raise a mocking eyebrow and smirked at Dean while passing his thumb along his nose half hiding his face as Jo came sneaking along Dean's side to grab a drink, and stay there.

Not that Dean did mind, it was both strange and pleasant to have a sneaky girlfriend.

_ You have barely eaten Dean." Castiel commanded offhandedly. "Is you digestive system not well?

Dean blinked. Had he? Not he was just fine. To prove it, he grabbed a burger from Cass hand (those were warmer that what was left on the table) and started munching through it; to stop halfway in disgust.

Maybe there was something wrong with his stomach. And no, Cass didn't need to fix it right away; like Sam sad, they had work to do.

* * *

Sam said he was fine.

Scratch that: Sam _was_ fine. Even if he could both hear, feel and smell the rush of Meg's blood through her veins. It was just a small itch, for now, not a desire, even less a craving.

So he was fine.

And promised himself he would tell Dean and call off before it gets too dire. He caught Meg winking at him. It sounded convenient. He already had the outlines of a plan that would most certainly work. It would have the downside of forcing him into detox once again; an inconvenience (to be moderate) he would have been willing to endure a few weeks ago as long as the deed was done.

Now, he wanted to preserve himself a bit more, if only because now he knew for certain Dean would be hurt too. Second, it was _too_ convenient, too easy. Sam had a bad feeling, it didn't sound like it was an idea crazy enough. Not by their new standards.

And Gabriel would probably fly him alive, when (if?) he'll get back in touch. The archangel's silence was starting to bother him.

There was something else bothering Sam when driving to Cass', and the Horseman's, Hotel. Jo, Dean and Cass were crammed in the back seat. Castiel was in the middle, much to Jo's obvious dismay. It looked like Jo had suddenly decided she didn't have enough of her boyfriend, and that Dean... was evading. Added to the thing that Dean barely ate, even when facing dishes he loved.

Maybe Famine didn't affect every people the same way. It felt like on his brother it was having the counter effect of its intended purpose. Because Dean had been to Hell? Of his damaged soul?

As long as it didn't go as far as make him run the other way around to escape Joanna, it might be an advantage. Speaking of the girl...

A twisted ploy came to his mind. It was a bit mean. But it might be effective. Especially that Cass' condition had worsened and was quite clear that he wouldn't be able to fight. And Meg's presence was becoming more disturbing for Sam by the minute.

_ Ok. Castiel. I'm sorry but you're nowhere near in shape for that fight. Meg, you bring him to his room, you take care of him.

_ As if I had any intention to be elsewhere." She drawled cockily before brushing past him to collect the angel and drag him toward the elevator.

_ Wait Meg." Cass managed to get one hand free to hand his blade to Sam. "One weapon won't be enough to pass those guards.

Sam took it reverently and thanked him. It had already been decided that Dean would get Ruby's knife, since Sam wouldn't be trusted with a slashing weapon near Famine and demons. The angel and the demon supporting him gone, he turned toward Jo, shushing a growingly impatient Dean.

It took at bit of coaxing to drag a pouting girl away from her actually reluctant boyfriend.

_ Look, Jo... How to put it?... Dean... apparently, he is affected by Famine. But, maybe because he has died once; it kind of works backward for him. What he should crave, disgust him right now.

_ You died too.

_ Two days, and I have no memories of it. Dean went to Hell for four months." Sam wasn't positive Jo already knew about the time laps so voted against insisting on it.

_ So when Famine is gone, Dean will want me again.

Sam's only answer was to ruffle carefully in his duffle and hand her the machete.

_ You don't need to kill it. Just get the ring, Dean and I will take care of the demons. Ok?

She nodded, and they came back to Dean, drawing their phones and set them ready to play exorcisms. It might not be enough to effectively exorcise all the demons, but at least it might disturb them.

This time, the plan was simple: Famine was hauled up in his suite, so they would kick in there, take out as many demons as possible room by room and make sure none would threaten Jo.

Sam could quite easily imagine Gabriel staring down at them disapprovingly, but stealth just didn't seem to fit the circumstances. And Gabriel wasn't there.

Dean got the privilege to kick the door open while Sam set his record on play. The boys immediately took each one side of the room and offed the first two demons swiftly. The smell of fresh blood gave Sam a shiver; a twist in his guts he wished wasn't so familiar.

Oddly, there were no other demon in the antechamber. Jo followed, her 'holy water spray' in hand, the machete in the other. She had used some cleaning stuff's spray to make it. It looked weird but that wasn't such a stupid idea after all.

"Trap?" Dean mouthed to Sam. Despite the sound emitting from their pockets, no one was coming forward. Sam agreed; there was something fishy. He pointed one of the three closed doors to his brother. One or another...

This time they put Jo between them and Sam got to lead. Dead end, it was the bathroom. They drew back and opened a second door. Third time's a charm, the last door led them to the master-bedroom, and it was occupied. The five others demon were circling a very old, disgustingly scrawny man in a wheelchair. It looked a bit like a waxed mummy had been brought back to life.

That was Famine? Sam couldn't help the disgusted face he made. He heard Jo whisper a "gross" behind him, couldn't agree more. Good thing people in his line of work usually died long before starting to look like that.

Strangely, the demons standing guard around the Horseman started to whimper and wither under the exorcism but didn't make a move toward them. Unsettled, Sam exchanged a look with his brother. Dean seemed as baffled as he was.

A mean gleam sparkled in Famine features.

"Hungry" he croaked before starting to inspire deeply and ... eat... for lack of a better word the demons broken souls before the exorcism send them to hell.

_ Double gross... How is that a thing?!

_ Ask who created it." Sam half whispered back.

_ And who did?

The Hell if he knew. Maybe they could ask Gabriel or Cass, later, when the first would deign grace them with his presence or the other get better.

_ Ah..." The Horseman sight contentedly. "Not nearly enough but I appreciate. Welcome Winchesters, I did not expect you to come so soon.

_ Sorry to crash your party." Dean answered between cheek and acid.

_ I see you let your pet behind this time. How is the angel? Still happy on fast food?

_ He is taken care of, I'll tell him you said hi.

The old creep tutted, like a teacher disappointed in his bet student.

_ Dean, Dean... Always so... mouthy. Still so empty. Why do you think my gift doesn't work on you?

_ 'Cause I have others priority.

Sam was burning to step before Dean and fend off that threatening monster. He had to remind himself that Dean was faring well and would resent him for being over protective to stay grounded.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see that Jo has taken advantage of Dean's distraction to weasel her way toward the thing that was keeping her boyfriend away from her.

The Horseman was actually staring at the elder Winchester like he was searching for something. Then narrowed his eyes as he seemed to find it and shifted his attention to Sam. Who felt somehow relieved that Dean wouldn't be under scrutiny anymore.

He graced Famine with a bored, mean smile, arms crossed.

_ Sam... The Boy Wonder. Such a shame you didn't take on your crown, you would have made a perfect ruler of Hell. Until Lucifer comes back to claim his due.

_ Not sure he really cares much about Hell. It was his prison after all. You're right, maybe I should have though." He heard a gasp from his side. Tried not to pay too much attention to Dean's reaction. Jo was close. "I might have been able to change some rules if I had.

He trailed on the last sentence, as if contemplating all the possibilities of a different choice. Then shrugged.

_ Well, let's not cry on spilled milk. I won't preside Hell. Neither will Lucifer. And you, won't contaminate more people.

Jo was just behind the Horseman, machete poised. Then slashed down onto his wrist just as the old thing realized his mistake. Joanna Harwell should have died weeks ago, those who followed the script wouldn't watch out for her.

* * *

Lucifer was enjoying the view from the balcony of his suite. Since he was on vacations, he could try to enjoy what was left of their Father's beautiful work. The star they called sun was shining over the large lazy river in front of him.

It was sparkling prettily, but the water reeked of cheap soap and unnatural things. Maybe not as nasty as a pond hosting larvae big enough to produce foot-sized insects, but not far; and at least, that had been swarming with life, not dead fish.

The suite was cozy, rich looking, with soft sheets and a basket full of more fruits an average human could ingest before they got rotten.

He picked a peach, juicy, tasteless.

He still didn't know what to think about Gabriel's revelation. Self-expanding, self-reproducing mini-universes really was a feat, and he could understand why there Father was so proud of his accomplishment. Human souls really were something, even if on his mind humans were still trash.

Simple example, there was actually hoarded into the Hotel he had registered in enough food to feed the whole village on the other side of the river for a week. And about half of it would end up in the trash bin. How could Gabriel even consider siding with those pompous monkeys?

And he was not talking about bedding one of them!

Lucifer's intended vessel, no less.

He stretched his wings, let the sun warm them and sparkle on their rim. After a while, a few hours or days maybe, he raised his wrists to his eyes. Intricate patterns of Enochian, north runes and signs that weren't quite letters nor words but did hold meaning. Gabriel really was a good smith; his work was both elegant and practical. And Lucifer had yet to find out everything they were doing, besides both feeding on his grace to power its spells and diffuse the excess to prevent his vessel from bursting out.

One thing he figured out was that the bracelets weren't exactly keeping Lucifer from using his grace. It was quite restrictive, both in power and intent. He basically couldn't use his grace to hurt, maim, or destroy anything.

He had tried, to punish a miscreant fool who dared look down on him, then to smash mirrors when it didn't work. His first try popped a rain of candy and the second soap bubbles. His try to manufacture a false credit card worked just fine though.

The suave perfume of roses distracted him from his contemplation. He stretched and walked up to the railing. The plants pleasantly assaulting his senses were two stories down and being watered by an old lady bent in half by the years.

On the bank, on the other side of the river, two kids were playing with pebbles while what was probably there sister, but might be their mother since she was already sexually active despite her young age, was trying to do some laundry.

There truly was something rotten in the world.

Lucifer shook his head and preened his wings before heading back in. His eyes fell on the fruit basket.

He solely sent it on the other side of the river to test his restrain.


	27. Chapter 27 - Le Sud

**Le Sud - Nino Ferrer  
**

(Lit. The South; in France refers to the Mediterranean coast)

* * *

Gabriel smelled heat before seeing anything, still, iodized, sandy heat. Wherever Balthazar brought him wasn't near the boys. He looked around: blue see, white beach, white houses and blue roofs.

Greece.

The Cyclades to be more precise.

Fuck. Gabriel hated that place. Not that Balthazar had any way to know that.

_ So..." he drawled. "Not that I don't enjoy a nice trip around the earth, but care to tell why you barged in the middle of my assignment?

_ You're welcome dear brother. Here, pick some Raki and fresh grape, they are even more delicious than I remember.

Oh... Yes... of course Balthazar would choose somewhere around the Mediterranean Sea for safe keeping.

This was a nice secluded little beach, at the bottom of a cliff, in the end of a creek. There was a village climbing the hills on the other side of the creek. Gabriel inhaled deeply. Mare Nostra always had a unique scent. Now, it had also an undercurrent tainted by gasoline and cheap sunscreen.

Upon Gabriel's lack of acknowledgement of his treats, the feisty angel had the second glass disappear and seated himself on a boulder, enjoying his share.

_ I heard you made quite a show of yourself recently, just before meeting with Luci-darling. The Host, didn't agree much with your alleged betrayal.

_ Michael?

_ Still out of line. Raphael.

_ The little shit. What is he becoming?

_ Pissed. More than that, he's like enraged since this mess started. Claims to everyone who dare listen that dad's dead. The only thing he cares about is following Dad's work to the letter hoping it might at least get Broody back.

_ So he came after littl'old me to make sure I stop interfering?

_ Not yet, he send his usual hand man: Zachariah.

Gabriel stared, disbelieving. Raphael had dared send him that little pompous shit?! That was insulting.

_ He climbed the ladder like a monkey since you left. Zach got his third pair of wings last millennia.

That took the cake! Who could be foolish enough to give this much power to a vindicate bastard like him? Raphael apparently, after Michael, he should be the only one to have the authority to allow an angel to travel through dimensions. The second set of wings being the ability to travel through time. That could also be temporarily granted.

Gabriel had been given a crash course about what he missed in heaven. But between the sheer number of reconstruction Castiel had suffered and his understandable reluctance to bring back memories of the home he has lost; it had been quite scarce.

_ Has Castiel died that often since I left? How can he be so messed up? Balthazar you were supposed to take care of her! You swore to me you would when I gave you wings.

He finished sadly. Balthazar looked, and felt so torn Gabriel couldn't stay mad. He was only the youngest of the four; any other archangel's order would out-rule his.

_ I did what I could Gaby. I did. Zachariah is not the only one to have gained power since The Great Rift. Naomi did too.

_ That bitch hates Cassie ever since she got the mission to guide you to meet the Infant instead of her.

_ You understand why she has not been too careful with his head.

There was something rotten in Heaven. It was like the poison of resentment Auntie had given to Luci had finally spread around all Heaven. What a pity. Gabriel could remember a time when they all got along, when Luci was the most beloved of them, and loved most his younger siblings very much. Everyone admired The Light Bringer, and _he_ admired no one more than Michael. That's why it hurt that much when Michael turned against Lucifer for something he could not really help.

Gabriel had felt that Dean thought he has been of not much use when meeting Lucifer, but offering him to kick daddy's ass might have been one of the few things that had convinced his brother.

Lucifer probably had always wanted to hear it. Michael would never have dared say that.

_ Introspection time off brother of mine, they are coming.

Gabriel whirled toward Balthazar, still seated on an olive tree stump.

_ Go.

_ What?

_ I said, go. Since we escaped them once, they know there is a snitch; you won't be any help to Cassie and the boys if you get caught!

_ I hope you know what you're doing bro.

And Balthazar fled the other way in a flutter of wings, leaving Gabriel alone with the waves for company. Until Zachariah, Ion and Bartholomew finally found him. The _fine fleur_ of Heavenly douche-bags.

_ Hiya sis'. Erm... Bro's it is now. Congrats on your promotion Zackie. Did you give Rif-raf some extra services to get those?

Ion and Bartholomew knew not enough about humanity to understand the insult, Zach turned beetle for a second before reining on his temper. He returned a disgusted look on his own.

_ I don't think I can return you the compliment: all that time around those apes, you stink like them.

_ Oh! That must be my Sammy, then!" Gabriel chirped, just for the pleasure to see Zach's reaction. It was small, but all he could afford right now. The situation wasn't brilliant, and the archangel doubted he would get out of this with all his feathers, or at all.

Not that he couldn't get rid of those underlings with one snap, but he had that bad feeling. And, they found him twice. He couldn't go back to the boys. He couldn't risk them, and what they were trying to accomplish.

Gabriel could just hope his help was enough and they could go on without him. In the meantime, there was some gratification in winding a prick like Zachariah up. And he would take every parcel he could get before being sent to Heaven's prisons.

Well... the rumors about heavenly jails didn't make it very homey, at least he might have a chance to try and talk to Michael. Too bad he forgot to retrieve his phone, no last word for Sammy.

* * *

Cass was back to himself again and voted immediately against stepping into the car. So he flew back to the salvage with Meg, leaving Sam, Dean and Jo to come back the long way with the Impala.

It was late, they really could have just crash into bed. It also was quite sound to put a few cities between them and the carnage in Famine's room. Only two of the host had survived the exorcism and very pretty badly bruised too. So Jo made a call to the emergency number and they left quickly.

Dean was driving, Sam by his side and Joanna obviously giving his brother the cold shoulder. The Hell if he knew why.

Sam was nervous, and _that_ , Dean knew why. They still had no news from Gabriel.

It wouldn't be the first time the archangel spent a few days 'on vacations', getting stuck somewhere was no good for feathers. But he never failed to spam Sam's phone with texts and weird pictures. That was almost two day, and not a single message despite the dozen Sam left.

Something had gone wrong and Dean was about to change course and go to the mental facility where Martin was. Three humans to rescue an archangel, how's the odds? This was when from worried Sam grew deadly still and pale. He dug for his phone and snarled in dismay when he realized there was no signal there.

_ Sam, what is it? What happened?

Dean tried several times to get an answer. It was as if Sam wasn't hearing any of it; he simply kept his eyes fastened on his phone, typing wildly on it, worry lines creasing his forehead. Dean was starting to worry too, for Sam first, and for Gabriel. Because, the Hell if he knew what had prompted Sam's sudden change of mood, but Gabriel was the only one _not_ in this car that could make Sam look this concerned.

_ Stop the car!

Startled, Dean didn't react right away and got scolded for that. Just before Sam leaped from the car and jogged back to the one spot where he could get some signal and dialed. Dean followed more calmly and stopped a few feet away, unsure about what to do next. It felt like Sam had somehow drifted away; too far to reach.

Once, twice, three times Sam called, then some more. He always hung up just before reaching the voicemail to re-dial and make the other phone ring. Until someone picked up the line.

_ Who are you?" Sam's voice was cold, controlled; his whole body taut, shaken with tremors. "When? … Curly blonde, weird accent? … Is that all?

Then Dean saw Sam's knuckles whiten and he could have sworn he heard the phone creak a bit when Sam asked whoever was on the other end of the line to describe… someone. He jumped a bit when the phone hit the ground with fury. Now, for sure, the thing was obliterated.

_ Sam…" He attempted softly, taking a tentative step forward. And two back when Sam, head thrown back started to shout at the sky.

_Zachariah! You fucking bastard! This is not a prayer but you hear this: I'd better find Gabriel whole and fine! Or I swear to you; I'm gonna pluck your damn feathers one by one and fry them! I'll tear you apart! I'll make you BEG!

There were more threats, all as violent as the next. When Sam was done, he was shaking badly. And Dean was outright scared, petrified, by such a display of pure rage. Even dad had never…

_ Sam… please." Dean didn't know if Zach had heard Sam or not, or how seriously he would take the threat, but right now _he_ was the one ready to beg. He has _read_ how Sam could be when on a murder spree, never though he could be that scary.

_ Get in the car Dean.

It was sharp, but surprisingly soft given Sam's actual state of mind. Maybe there still was a part of Sam in there that kept caring about Dean. He picked up the remains of the phone and followed Sam. Dean didn't try to push his luck and ask for the wheel when his brother headed to the left side of the car.

He did remind Sam that there was still a piece in the engine he needed to repair and duct tape could only hold so much. Sam didn't make any sign he heard, the speed needle did lower a bit.

Dean heard ruffle from the back. He had almost forgotten Jo was there too. He took a peek; she was glued to the seat, both hands clutching the door handle. Upon crossing his gaze, she gave Dean a wide eyed look. Yep, they were both trapped into a four wheeled coffin with a rage crazed hunter speeding on a small mountain road.

Nothing to worry about.

The miles and hours went by before Dean decided Sam might have time to release some steam.

_ Sam talk to me.

It took a while, and Dean almost dropped it, then Sam heaved a long breathe.

_ I can feel him.

Ok… that was a start…

_I mean; I was able to, since that night. He's not dead. He can't die. But I can't feel him anymore.

_ That's when you started to freak out.

Sam didn't acknowledge. That wasn't a question anyway.

_ I can only feel where he is: far, close, about the direction. I felt his terror; just before he disappeared.

Fuck... As if Sam's love life wasn't already torn enough. It had to happen to them...

_ Who answered the phone?

_ A nurse, at the mental institute where's Martin. Balthazar broke in and whisked him away. Just before three guys pretending to be federals came in to ask about "their last patient". One of them matches Zachariah's description.

_ Ok, you think Zach has found them a second time, then what?

_ I don't know. Probably not Hell, most likely Heaven.

_ It there another option anyway?

More silence answered to that for a while.

_ Have you ever wondered, where the creatures souls go when they die?

_ You think they have souls?

Sam only threw a dirty glare in the mirror.

_ Hey, that's a sound question, angels don't after all.

_ Where to then?" Dean interjected to defuse the upcoming fight. Or simply gain time.

_ Purgatory.

_ Feels like you think it might be the worst option.

_ Because it might. Firstly, Gabriel's children are there. Second, I felt there is something about that place that made Gabriel... uncomfortable. More than facing the children he didn't save to keep his cover. He never wanted to talk about it. Except for that one time.

_ So, what's the plan? We make sure Gabe's not in Heaven, get to Purgatory and drag his ass back home?

_ The plan hasn't changed: we gank Pestilence, and drag Michael out of the rabbit hole he's hidden in all that time.

Dean blinked hard. Really? He wanted to object. That wasn't how you do things.

_ Sam…

_ Gab' would kill us if we give-up humanity for him.

_ But…

_ Then we'll have to do quickly.

Sam didn't utter another word until he had to make a stop for fuel. Dean took care of the car; Sam went to do some groceries. Somewhen during the ride, Jo had fallen asleep, all crooked on the back seat. She was cute.

Dean opened the door and tried to help her get a bit more comfortable, used his jacket as a blanket and went to find something in the trunk to use as pillow.

_ Where's Sam?

_ Sorry, I didn't want to wake you up. Doing some shopping.

_ 's OK. Come here. You reckon he might shoot the clerk?

Dean shook his head. Sam was pissed, and still ready to murder Zach, slowly. But he had cooled down enough not to strike blindly. Dean knew that look, that set of jaw. He had tried to decipher the volatile moods of a man who was just like that for years. The main differences being: Sam wasn't a drunk and had sworn to Dean he would protect him. Dean hoped: even from his own bad temper.

Dean settled a bit more comfortably in the seat and kissed softly the lips that presented themselves to him.

_ Go back to sleep, there are some more hours to go, even at that speed.

When Sam came back, Dean made a move to get to the front-seat. Sam simply waved him to stay where he was and handed a bag with a few club sandwiches, sodas, two slices of pie and some bananas. He picked a banana for himself and asked if Dean needed to go to the bathroom. They hit the road again, Dean was splitting his attention between watching worryingly the nape of Sam's stiff neck and playing with Jo's hair.

Sam had been a wreck after Jess' death. At that time he had also been quite a stranger to Dean; four years apart had taken a huge toll on their relationship. Sam had been both familiar and different from what Dean remembered and expected. How many times he had been awoken by his brother's muffled cries not knowing what to do? How to help and alleviate his pain?

It was thanks to Gabriel that Dean had truly gotten his Sammy back. And some more.

Now, it was also Gabriel who payed the price of associating with the Winchesters.

Once again, Sam was a wreak. And Dean crossed his fingers he could reach him this time.


	28. Chapter 28 - Des fleurs pour Salinger

**Des Fleurs Pour Salinger - Indochine**

(Flowers for Salinger - apparently 'The Catcher in the Rye' author)

* * *

Later, much later, back at Bobby's, Sam got smashed.

The last time Dean had seen his brother in this state was when he learnt about the Azazel thing. A few years ago.

So, obviously, when Sam wobbled to their room, Dean wasted no much time to follow him. Too much apparently. He found Sam, soberer than he let on, a change of Dean's clothes and a bag to put them in in hands. He threw them into Dean's arms before he even had time to set a foot into the room.

_ Dean, you are an imbecile. Stop wasting time, waiting for something that ain't gonna hapen. Go! Moron.

With that, Sam shut the door to his face and locked it.

What the Hell?

He tried to call his brother, several times, but got no answer except for him to piss off. He could get Sam was in a bad place after Gabriel's disappearance. Dean was worried too. But this... what was going on in that Stanford head?

Disgruntled, Dean slowly went down the stairs, finding Bobby still in the living room. He put his things on the sofa and ruffled through a closet for blanket and cushion.

_ What you doin' boy?

_ Sam kicked me out.

_ About time. Put that back where you got it, Idjit.

Bobby shoed Dean back the the closet to put down what he just found and handed him the duffle fulled with his clothes. The Winchester stared at him, at loss. He was tired, and a bit wrung out. He had no time for this kind of bullshit.

Despite his protest, Bobby manhandled him toward the door, then out.

_ You're not coming back before tomorrow.

* * *

Jo was fresh out of her long bath when an almost imperceptible knock made itself heard from the front door. She shrugged on a dressing gown and went to open. Not really surprised to find Dean.

She didn't expect him to look so sheepish though.

_ Sam and Bobby kicked me out. Not sure why...

She smiled. Dean seemed to think his bad-ass attitude was what attracted girls. But honestly, he was so much more attractive when unsure and tentative like just now.

He probably had never realized it but any bartender with some years experience and a minimum empathy would see right through his cocky attitude, the little boy in desperate need for affection. And fall for it. She had. Not at first, she had been too young, too awed to notice.

The fact that Dean Winchester was gorgeous wouldn't hurt either.

_ I swear, we didn't even fought.

Dean was a lamb in a wolf guise. Sam was the exact opposite. His display from earlier _had_ scared her, but she hadn't been surprised. Both their masks had been slipping away lately.

_ I'm sure you were just dandy." She started jokingly before amending herself. "Sam may need some time alone.

He looked dubious, but let go.

_ So... Can I bunk with you tonight?

She let a happy little laugh out and caught him by the belt buckle.

_ Stupid, that's not how you call it when it's your girlfriend you're talking to.

He blushed a bit. That was a precious image Jo decided to carve in her mind for the next time he'll get obnoxious. She led Dean to her room, let him take a look around, put his bag on the desk.

Jo let her gown drop on the floor. Dean licked his lips. She wished it were out of expectation, he was nervous. Like every time she tried to get too close. And not exactly like that. Today, Dean wouldn't shy away.

He had seated himself on the edge of her bed, some determination in his stance told her so. And a few tip from Sam about Dean's utter lack of history with real relationships.

She moved forward, just in front of him, she took his hands and put them on her lower back. They stayed there, motionless. He looked so tired, probably worrying about Sam's mental state. She was too, but Sam was not her priority, so she drew a hand through his hair and pulled gently.

Dean was tall, and her bed high enough that his nose was poking just under her sternum. She kept him there, simply massaging his scalp softly, until he made the next move. She felt kisses against her skin. Dean's hand started to move on her back too. Good.

She still waited for him to reach up before bending for a kiss. It never ceased to amaze her that Dean, the monster slayer, could be so sweet when holding a woman in his arms. Jo let her lover drag her down onto his lap, using the motion to peel the jacket and shirt of his delicious shoulders.

_ Belt out cow-boy.

Big buckles never do well with naked ladies; he complied. His arms around her, his broad chest against her breast, hard and warm. She kissed again.

And again.

Dean didn't need to be prompted to get rid of his tee-shirt. He was totally in the mood now. She did flip them over when he tried to lie down and have her ride him. _Not today loverboy._

She on the edge of the bed, Dean kneeling before her. He got rid of his last pieces of clothes. She used the easy position to wrap the condom on him, noticing that he had fair hair and was pointing to the side. Once finished, she gave a small stroke with the back of her knuckles.

The oddly intimate gesture seemed to have aroused her lover a bit more. He slowly bend her back on the bed, following the motion and covering her body with his.

After that, let's say she just happily let him take the lead. Dean really was the sweetest lover.

* * *

Dean was... well. More than well, happy.

Despite... everything. He was happy. Jo wrapped over him, her hair tickling his neck.

It wasn't the most wild or exotic night of his life, but probably one of the best.

_ What are you thinking about?

_ Sam.

She moved to look at him face to face.

_ You're afraid he could call Lucifer and organize a raid on Heaven?

He could do that. Sam could definitely pull one like that if desperate enough. He sighed.

_ No. Well.. yes. But that's not what I was thinking about.

_ So...

He liked that smile she had sometimes, soft teasing mixed with tenderness.

_ One day, I don't remember when exactly, we were at that amazing dinner in Minnesota. They served some of the best burgers I ever had.

_ Do you ever stop thinking about food?

_ Shut up.

She giggled and let him continue his story. So.. there were those amazing burgers. and, it wasn't the first time, nor the last Dean decided burgers were better than sex. Usually, Sam would just roll his eyes or flip him off. It must have been not too long after their reunion, because Sam had been in one of his sour mood at that time.

"You only say that because you've never been with someone you really care about." He had mumbled grumpily. It had stung a bit, Dean had been with women he honestly liked. And Sam was being some rom-com wuss.

"There is a difference between wanting sex, and wanting someone. It's sad you can't get it." Then Sam had left him nursing his beer and cursing his bitch of a little brother. Now... Dean might be starting to understand what he meant that day.

_ So... You were thinking I'm better than burger? How romantic.

Dean nodded sideways.

_ I know.

She slapped him lightly. Such a jerk!

The next day, when Dean woke up, it was to find her flipping pancakes in his tee. Loved the sight. He kissed her good day and seated himself to enjoy the view. The pancakes were a bit crusty, not that they were meant to. Jo wasn't a good cook, but she tried. And he even spooned the crumbs.

_ So, how is my first at making pancakes on my own?

_ Definitely better than burgers." He winked at her.

_ If you're still hungry, I'm sure we can make do something." She teased back.

Didn't need to be told twice, he grabbed her fireman style to bring her back to her room.

_ Hey ! You Barbaric Neanderthal!

Since she was laughing, he decided she probably didn't mind too much.

Damn, he was happy.

* * *

She shoed him out of her flat mid afternoon, some people _had_ a job to keep. And Dean's actual job was to keep Sam in check.

Dean wasn't in a hurry to find out how bad Sam might be. He was worried, of course. He simply wasn't sure whether he would be able to handle Sam's temper. Yesterday had reminded Dean of too many bad memories.

He found Castiel and Meg, discussing together, seated on the hood of one of Bobby's car wreck. It never ceased to be odd, those two getting along. He greeted them and went for the house before turning back.

_ Can you tell me how is it inside?

Cass sad blue eyes took in the run-down house, as if he could see through the wooden walls what was happening inside. He very well might.

_ Bobby is in the back of the yard, some package has been delivered this morning. Sam has passed out three hours ago.

Dean grimaced at that. Is sounded too familiar.

_ He hasn't drunk since you left yesterday, if it's what you are worried about. Sam passed out from exhaustion. He hasn't left your room all night and day.

Dean wondered, was he that transparent, or did Cass have some direct connection to his feels? Not exactly the time to think about it.

When Sam would wake-up, he'd get a Hell of a hangover.

_ Can you unlock the door too?" Castiel waved a hand. Done. "Thanks buddy.

_ You're welcome Dean.

It occurred a bit too late to Dean that Castiel must have it hard too. Gabriel was his brother after all, even if they didn't get along very well. He vowed to himself to make up to his friend later.

He went in and up to their room. Sam was indeed out cold, spread over the covers, sheets of paper scattered all around him, on the floor. His treasured laptop was dangling dangerously near the edge of the bed.

First thing first, Dean opened the window to get some fresh air, secured the laptop and put his bed-cover over Sam's limp form. Then he went back to the kitchen to get a bottle water for when Sam would wake-up. He met Bobby on the way, the package Cass had seen coming was the piece he had been waiting for.

Good. It would give him something to do when he'll need to get some space.

The breeze and the cool air might have disturbed the sleeper, Sam had moved to a more fetal position, blanket bunched up in his arms, and crinkled some papers. It was heartbreaking, Dean had the best place to know how Sam had gotten used to sleep curled around his lover.

He put the bottle on the bedside and ruffled Sammy's hair. The mess he had made in one single night. There were papers every where, even under the beds. Yes.. both. So Dean busied himself in collecting and trying to sort out the crumpled, crossed-out, high-lightened mess.

Sam woke up sluggish. He cracked an eye open, 4:17. His head hurts.

Less than his heart when he remembered what had happened the previous day. Something akin to a wail escaped his throat, before he realized he wasn't alone in the room.

_ It's OK, it's just me.

Dean was already by his side, All mother hen.

_ You shouldn't be there. Were supposed to go.." He slurred grumpily.

_ I went, and I came back.

_ 't's four Dee. S'must be mad.

_ Four p.m. grounchy. Get up and drink.

What! That late? Sam shot up and winced immediately. Hurt... He took the offered bottle and downed it. Too fast, it made him nauseous.

_ Ugh.

_ Don't puke on our bed." He wanted to laugh at Dean's stern warning, he just couldn't.

The nausea receded, his head was spinning a bit less.

_ What were you thinking? Sam?

_ Gab'..." he trailed half miserably, half defiantly.

_ You really think you can help him in that state?

It wasn't even judgemental, not even a hint. It was pure concern. Sam had no answer to that. No good one at least. He was so tired... Gabriel had given him hope, a direction to move forward. Without him...

He didn't like who he was when Gabriel wasn't around to remind Sam he was worth more than just a bad remake of John's worst traits.

Sam's stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn't eaten anything since that banana on the road. He heard Dean sigh and get up, dragging him in the motion.

_ Go get a shower, it'll do you good. I'll cook you something quick. Then, we'll keep on looking for Pestilence and a way to get Michael, together. With Bobby, and Cass.

Sam looked up to Dean, his big brother, who always had taken care of him, cleaned up Sammy's mess. With dad, with the Apocalypse, in hunts when Sam would mess up, or not be strong enough.

He has tried, so hard, to grow up, to give Dean back everything he had done for Sam, or even just a bit. To be the one doing the caring for a change. And it was still not enough. He was still the little brother that needed to be taken care of.

He let Dean lead him to the bathroom, fighting his impulse to shrug him off. He wasn't a baby. He also knew Dean would take it as Sam's dismissal. So he let go. Until he felt better.

Just one more line on the incredibly long list of things he owned to Dean. He was such a mess... felt like he simply couldn't function when not leaning on someone, Dean, Gabriel. Even Jessica.

He wouldn't have made it so long without her. She had guided him through the strange and foreign College society. People were so weird to him.

Sammy, bloody Boy King of bloody Hell; can't even walk on his own two feet.

He punched the wall. Heard Bobby shout something about the furniture and payment for repairs. He didn't care.

_ Get your sheets together, you ass." He mumbled angrily at his reflection. "How long will you keep on being a hindrance in his life?

He heaved a long, suffering sigh. Then straighten up when he heard a knock on the door; his head was still fuzzy, probably from lack of food.

_ I'm OK, Dean, just a minute.

_ Dinner's served, I've collected your notes. Just come down when you're ready.

Sam didn't answer, Dean hasn't waited for one anyway.

Well... Show time again.

* * *

I'm on holiday. So next in 2 weeeks.


	29. Chapter 29 - Casser la voix

**Casser la Voix - Patrick Bruel**

(Lit. Break the Voice; means Shout Oneself Raw)

* * *

When Sam went down, Dean could see something has changed. And he wasn't sure he liked that. That was a Sam who didn't want to rely on him, withdrawn and colder than Dean liked.

He thought he had managed to get through Sam half an hour ago. Guess it was only sleep and the hangover talking.

Shit!

Not again...

Sam did dig in his hastily prepared meal: pasta, canned tomatoes for sauce and some sausages left-over. It would do for now.

Dean let his brother eat in peace, not really in a hurry to find out how far he has withdrawn this time and started to ruffle through the papers. He had no idea how Sam's freakish brain worked when running on booze, sleep deprive and despair. There were bits of about everything: a list of likely spreading points, demons omen, clips about recent epidemics tucked in their journal at the page relating their first encounter with the Croatoan.

_ Vaccine?

Sam looked up from his second refill; Dean was pointing a blue post-it Sam had scribbled. He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to remember. To what that particular note was related.

_ I was wondering. We know once the disease spreads, it's nearly impossible to stop. There might be a cure but the erm... virus, spreads too fast, is too potent. It wouldn't help much. I survived once, might be a fluke, I might be immune.

_ So you think we could make a vaccine to prevent the spread?

Well... "we"... Someone.

_ It was just one idea amongst others. In case we get too late.

_ We won't!

Dean's determination was a good thing, most of the time. It was also blinding him sometimes, rendering him incapable of seeing that things did not always bend to his will. That one should be prepared for things to go south. And in their case, not being prepared would be the doom of all humanity.

_ Too early to argue about that.

_ Sam...

Just stay calm... You know how to do it. Remember, like when you wanted to bash dad's head because his recklessness had Dean once again wounded in hospital, or concussed and alternating between throwing his guts and be out cold.

_ We do our best, but we can't know Dean. We lost the only person who could have told us how long we still have. And we can't screw up that one.

_ But we don't know anyone with a medicine degree who could do that.

Sam looked up from his polishing. Maybe they did, if he had finished his studies. But what they didn't have was the original virus' strain; it had vanished with the people of River Grove. What Dean had seen in the future was spreading so fast, they weren't even sure it was the same virus, or improved. Fuck-it!

_ Moot point. Told you, I just threw things around.

That was maddening. He felt... restless, edgy, since Gabriel had disappeared. It didn't feel like it was only his worries doing it. At least, if the bond of sort he had with Gabriel was pulling at him, it meant his angel was still alive.

He went to the fridge to get something to drink and yoghurt. Dean still ruffling through his notes, half of them he barely remembered making.

_ Sam?

_ Hn?" He uttered around a spoonful of yoghurt and cereals. He was hungry, and still a bit hungover.

_ Why taking notes about diseases spreading rates? We know how that crap spreads: through blood contact.

_ They could have improved it, make it more easy to spread. And... I don't know." God he was so tired. "I don't even remember half of it Dean.

_ OK.

It had been brief, but Sam felt disappointment in his brother's tone. Again.

_ Sorry." He got up and undressed the table. Starting to wash the dishes.

For a few minutes, the only sounds were the pages ruffling softly, the slosh of water and, from the yard, the muffled chatter of Castiel and Meg. Sam's mechanic movements on the pan stopped. He wasn't sure what he heard, there.

_ Don't. Please don't go again.

It was a whisper, barely audible above the water. As if Dean was ashamed he was even saying it. Sam wasn't sure he was supposed to hear it. It made it even worse. Now he could understand why Dean always seemed so worn down, holding by threads. Having to take care of another being, despite that deep pit gnawing at your insides, was quite exhausting.

He finished the dishes, maybe with a little more care than earlier. It was quick, not that many pans and plates since he had been the only one to eat. Then turned toward Dean, he had abandoned the papers to browse his recent internet history.

_ The chicken flu?" He was reading above Dean's shoulder. "Was I that drunk?

_ Don't know, you seemed not that smashed when you kicked me out of our room.

Sam shuffled awkwardly.

_ You know why I did it.

_ Doesn't mean I have to like your... means.

When has Dean ever liked his means? Every time Sam made a call, Dean didn't like it. Even when it was to come back to Gabriel. Despite the good it did bring for once.

Sam sighed and leant against the sink... stop making everything about you, bitch. But damn, right now it was...

_ Fuck it.

Dean turned around to look up at him.

_ Excuse-me?

_ I can't Dean. I'm sorry, right now, I can't. Or I'll blow up something. It's not against you. So please... just let me handle it the way I know.

_ Nope. Last two times didn't work a charm, did they?

Dean was up now and standing right in from of him. Tug at his shirt.

_ Come here.

Sam was perplex, for an instant, until Dean lead him outside. Yeah, right, as if Dean would ask for a hug. They went for the scrapyard, ambled passed Cass and Meg, still on their car, toward the back of the high stacked junk car.

_ Pick one. A solid one, not some crappy plastic ... crap.

Great! What was he thinking? They had other things to do.

_ What for?

_ Shut-up, you do it my way. Pick-up one.

Sam shrugged, better let Dean have his ways right now, it will be over faster. He pointed to a wreak that must have been nice, before being T-boned by what could have been a bus.

_ Could have been worse." Dean shrugged. "Bring it on there.

Sam looked at the car, wheels pointing in all directions and the place his brother wanted his to drag it. Has Dean mistaken him with superman?

_ Dean I can't...

But Dean was already gone.

Sam huffed. Stomped grumpily, and considered going back in.

They still had a Horseman to gank, and Michael might be the only one left able to help find Gabriel. No way they were gonna tell Lucifer about his baby brother missing after being chased by Zach. He would just storm heaven in anger. That wasn't their angle, even if Sam was inclined to say yes to the Devil just to get his hands on the ass who robbed him of his angel.

In a surge of returning anger, he kicked the car. Didn't have the right shoes, bitch it hurt. As well use the feeling to get it done. The fact that he was rapidly growing frustrated and worked up against the damn thing was actually helping.

By the time he got the wreaked pile of rusty iron where Dean wanted it, he was sweating and his arms and back were a bit sore. Dean was seated afar, reading on some stuff, a fresh bottle in hand, and a huge hammer laying against his leg. Huge like half Sam's size.

_ Good! Now take this." He handed the hammer.

Balancing between baffled and annoyed, Sam took the thing. Seriously, what was going on with his brother?

_ Now, you've got the choice, either you use it to turn your car into some ironish modern art, or you fix it.

Sam's eyebrows shot up, his gaze traveling back and forth to Dean, the hammer in his hand and the wrecked car.

_ Dean, I know squat about cars. I can barely do the maintenance on the Impala.

Dean smiled, good answer.

_ That's why I'm there brother of mine.

By sunset, Sam was dripping with sweat, every single one of his muscles hurt, and some he didn't even knew were there. With fatigue came calmness. Except for the sore, restless part where he used to feel Gabriel. That didn't relent.

The car... was in pieces Sam has disassembled it under Dean's supervision. Its chassis was almost in the shape it should be. That was a start.

_ Feeling better?

As an answer, Sam breezed past Dean toward the house and ultimately the bathroom. Well, Dean hoped for the bathroom, because that breeze sure didn't smell good. He was used to his baby brother's musk, but not to this point.

* * *

Girls, I'm back. :)


	30. Chapter 30 - Mes Plus Mauvaises Nuits

**Mes Plus Mauvaises Nuits - Indochine**

(My Worst Nights)

* * *

Still under Dean's supervision, Sam spend half his day time working on the 1970 Pontiac GTO, the other half, and most of the nights, searching for Pestilence.

The car was coming into shape. Dean had to save the laptop from meeting a wall more and more often. Nothing was fine, but that was how it worked for Winchesters.

Well... not exactly nothing. Lately, Dean had spend most of his nights with Jo. He had felt a bit bad about it, until Sam made very clear he'd rather be alone at night. It did set some alarms in Dean's mind, but sometimes, Sam had that look that makes you reconsider your priorities from 'take care of little brother' to 'I want to keep all my limbs attached'.

But tonight, Dean had not many options: Jo and Ellen had kicked him out for a 'girl night', and Bobby was camping the living room. So he had given Sam no choice and dragged him to bed for some much needed sleep.

Right now, facing his big baby brother's back, he almost wished he hadn't. Sam had resolutely turned his back to him as soon as they got to bed. Not that it hadn't become an habit when Gabriel was staying the night: give them some privacy and Dean some peace of mind. But Dean knew he could always reach to him if needed. And he had a few times, extended his arm to rest on that large back.

Now, Sam's back had become a forbidding wall Dean couldn't bring himself to lean on. It became even worse when, in the middle of the night, he started to hear Sam pray, to Gabriel. Telling him how was his day, apologizing for not being smart enough to go on, for choosing the mission over him.

"I can't do it without you... I can't even live up to my vows. I'm hurting him, again... I know it, but I can't... I miss you...

"Please... Please hold on until we find you... I'm sorry I was a coward... I didn't even told you... I love you.

It was going on and on, breaking Dean's heart. He wanted to hold Sam, and tell him, Gabriel knew. Of course he knew, Sam didn't have to say it. It was written in every look, every kiss he had been giving the archangel lately.

He didn't dare. He was loosing his little brother once again, and he didn't know what to do.

 _Please... Someone, Help him._

* * *

Sam had an ominous feeling as soon as he realized he was falling asleep. He tried to stay awake, but he was too exhausted. He steeled himself when hearing a loud sigh behind him.

He wished it would have taken more time to Lucifer to realize there was no-one to slap his wrist if he were to come and 'play with Sam' again. He heard a 'tssk' behind his back and whirled around.

_ Sammy, Sammy, Sammy...

Lucifer, in his Nick vessel, was sitting on a large canned and bamboo desk. The whole room looked exotic, oriental or something. Sam wondered idly if it was a real place or straight out of the Devil's imagination.

_ I took your word, I've gone to India, waiting for you to catch up.

The bastard was as annoying as ever.

_ And... I can't help but wonder what's taking you so long? You had aaall the clues. Weeks ago. And you're _still_ scrambling.

He crossed his arms, looking at Sam as if he was a puzzle. A weird one.

_ I still can't see what my brother sees in you big oaf.

Sam's mind was going wild, he was terrified despite the current easy demeanor of his tormentor. Last time, Gabriel was there to shoulder him.

What Dean would do? What would he say?

Easy. Dean would shrug carelessly, provocative.

_ Big Dick. Amazing sex.

Well... maybe not that crude.

Lucifer raised his eyebrows, and laughed with surprise. Then scrunched up his features.

_ Is sex really worth all this..." He gestured vaguely. "It looks so _boring_.

Strangely, he seemed genuinely curious. Like when he asked about the car. It could be something Cass would say.

_ Yes. Yes it is, and even more. Make love with someone, it's... letting go, there is no hiding, no pretending. Just sharing: the heat, a rhythm, pleasure. Rediscovering their body, and them yours. When you're so in tune with each other nothing else exist. This is the most beautiful thing, ever.

Sam's voice had grown a bit dreamy, remembering his nights with Gabriel, Jessica, even Madison. He had truly liked that girl, even if it hadn't lasted.

Random memories of tongues, wandering hands, heated skin, hungry wet kisses, the smell of sex popped into Sam's mind, available to his visitor.

_ You do realize that this is lame besides what _we_ have, the depth of sharing _we_ can achieve. Gabriel wouldn't fall for that little.

Sam shrugged. It was the best they, lowly humans, could have. And It was not because Sam couldn't hear Gabriel that the contrary wasn't true.

Lucifer considered the boy before him carefully. He was obviously still terrified of him, as he should. And still obstinate, standing straight, resolute. That kid had guts, he hated himself, what he was, but that wouldn't prevent him from battling for what he thought was right.

It was infuriating when Sam was standing in his way. It was also a tiny bit admirable.

There was also an immense sadness enveloping the kid. That was... maybe not so surprising.

_ I don't understand, why is Gabriel letting you floundering like that. You do have some time before our _friend_ is ready to wipe your asses. Still...

That was it, a bristle, that haunted look. Lucifer sight, he has surmised Gabriel didn't expect his stay with the brothers to last, he had hoped it wouldn't end so soon. He had hoped he would get to see his baby brother at least once again before loosing him for good.

_ I... a...

Sam was babbling, words strangled in his throat, eyes wide, fearful.

_ I knew it would happen, one way or another. Gabriel knew. Breath Sammy.

It didn't bode well for the end game though.

_ He's not dead.

It was a whisper, barely audible, but he had a defiant glint in his eyes. Lucifer cocked his head.

_ What do you mean?

_ Gabriel's gone. Where? We can only guess. But he's not dead. Not well, and not dead. We'll find him back.

It could have been bravado. It was just confidence. Sam wanted it so bad that in his mind, there was no doubt, they would find Gabriel back, no matter what. Probing a bit his intended vessel's mind, Lucifer also realized that Sam hadn't missed his introduction and was already mentally striping down his mental walls from everything he has collected recently to come back to the first night's notes 'he' had made and try to tie the clues together.

Maybe Gaby was right, Sam's mind was brilliant, when correctly prompted, preferably when not drunk.

_ Time to wake up Sammy.

He waved him away and turned back on the balcony, to enjoy the view.

He looked at the bracelet, shining under the sun, tracing with a finger the intricate patterns. He hadn't yet found out every spells woven into it, but he did get this : there were two ways to unlock the bracelets, and one bypass to their restraining properties.

Either Gabriel had to remove them himself, or the boys had to independently and separately decide Lucifer was to be trusted to free him. And Lucifer would be allowed to use his grace to strike (without popping soap bubbles) if, and only if, it was to protect the Winchesters brats. Typical safeguard in case Gabriel wouldn't be available.

* * *

When Dean got up, Sam's side of the bed was already cold. Crap. Had Sam even slept? At all? He went the the bathroom, washed his sleepy face and sighted to the mirror; wondering what he would find downstairs.

He could have brought up many scenarii, but not that one.

Sam was in the living room, had pushed as many furniture he could to the sides. And he had literally covered the floor with every scrap of paper they drew up about Pestilence, apparently including copies of some of Bobby's books. I was like he has tried to shuffle the deck, spread it on the floor and picked some cards at random to pin them on the only wall not lined with shelves.

That... he could almost understand. But, Sam standing straight and tall, washed sleeked hair (Dean couldn't even remember when Sam had last washed his hair, growing mussier with time), and wearing the pantsuit and white shirt he used to impersonate FBI agents.

He turned toward Bobby who was nursing a coffee and mouthed 'What the hell?' to him. Bobby held his hands up in a 'don't know, don't want to' way.

Dean shrugged, went to the kitchen to get his own mug and some toast. Once a bit more awake, he returned to the mess Sam had spread. Upon closer scrutiny he realized that the pined papers were almost all from the stack Dean had gathered the day after his first night with Jo.

_ Hi Sammy." He finally greeted, tired of waiting for his brother to get into his surrounding.

Sam barely looked at him but did answer his greetings. Dean pushed a few books to lean against the nearby desk. He gestured toward the wall with his mug. The coffee slouched and spilled a bit. That earned him a glare from Bobby. "Sorry." he muttered.

_ Wanna share what this all mean?

_ Lucifer said three things: 1/ He knew Gab knew he wouldn't be around till the end; 2/ Pestilence is not ready yet, whatever his plans are, means it's not a simple plan and probably big; 3/ we are supposed to have had all the clues in hand since day one. So, back to the basics. This" he gestured at the wall "is everything that 'I' gathered the night after Gab' disappeared, and the answer ought to be there.

And with that he stuck a post-it in the middle of it.

Dean's mind froze, a second.

_ What? wait, wait, wait... Wait! Say it again: when did you have a _chat_ with _Lucifer_?

Sam turned to him, "tonight" he answered dismissively and returned to contemplate his work.

Dean slammed the mug on the desk, sprinkling some more coffee on it. Sonovabitch!

_ And you didn't see fit to _tell me_?

_ You were sleeping Dean, I'm telling you now.

Oh... That overly patient tone had always managed to piss him off, now as well as ever. Dean stood and grabbed his vest, he needed to go out, or he'll would punch Sam : since when Lucifer invading his noggin' was no big deal!?

A nagging little voice answered without his consent : since day one.

* * *

Hell... when he prayed for someone to help Sam, he didn't ask for _Lucifer_ to show up.

_ Dean are you all right?

It was Cass, head tilted, a worried expression on his face. Dean was finishing polishing Baby.

_ No. Yes. I don't know. Why Cass?

_ Why... what?

The angel wasn't very expressive, but Dean had learned to read the minute movements of this face. Cass was puzzled.

_ Why does Sam thinks he's not worth protecting? What did I do wrong?

Cass dared his too blue, too sad gaze into Dean's.

_ You do realize that the same apply to you Dean?

Dean opened his mouth to protest, then closed it with a sigh. Cass got a point. He drew a hand over his face.

_ You mean I didn't set the good example, did I?

The angel smiled. Actually a real, genuine, smile.

_ You two are very alike. He grew up wanting to be like you. Like yourself tried hard to be more like your father.

_ Right...

After a few more words, Cass assuring Dean he was all right and, like Sam, believed Gabriel was still alive; Dean headed back in. Maybe he could lend a hand.

* * *

Just wondering... has any ever tried to check out the songs I use as chapter titles? (listen to or search for the lyrics trad)


	31. Chapter 31 - J'me fâche

**J'me fâche - Axel Red**

(I get mad)

* * *

Sam had his phone in hand; Bobby was still prudently looming in the back of the room, one finger loosely slipped between two pages of an old tome.

_ Whatcha doin'?

Bobby made a zipping gesture before his lips, Sam didn't even acknowledge his presence, he was such a bitch sometimes, and dialed a number from memory before putting his (new) phone on speaker and lie it on the nearby desk.

While the phone rang its call, Dean noticed Sam had found another part of the walls to redecorate with papers looking like data logs and graphics and... stuff Dean didn't care much to recognize right now. There were about as many blank pages pined next to them, and Sam had a sharpie in hand.

Dean was trying to catch Bobby's eyes and get some answer when Sam's call went through.

_ Bradley Tyson, Niveus Pharmaceutical.

Dean's eyebrows shot up, never heard of that guy, definitely not a hunter.

_ Hi Brady, that's Sam. Winchester." Sam added after a blank, earning an audible gasp.

_ Winchester! Boy the guts you've got!

Sam shifted, a bit embarrassed, and Dean wondered idly if it was the guy Sam had slept with. Then remembered it was an Oliver.

_ Erm... Sorry dude..." was the sheepish answer. This time the guy laughed.

_ Boy, good to hear you're still kicking after all this time. Five years! You literally disappeared just after... well... _Jess_. Beth told me you decided to take some road trip with your brother to steam it off. And no fucking news for _five_ damn years.

_ Had been busy..." Sam was full blush now. "Niveus Pharmaceutical? You finally decided to get your diploma and do something with your brain?

_ Change subject Winchester. Doesn't change that you ditched your best friend and got lost on him for five loooong years. Missed your fringe boy.

Sam huffed a laugh. 'Best friend'? Dean mouthed to Bobby. How come he never heard of the guy? Well... he never heard much about Stanford anyway. As if Sam was afraid speaking of his try at a normal life, away from both the hunt, the constant bickering with their father, and away from his brother, would set Dean off.

_ Still on that road trip then or you got to live the dream and you two settled nice and comfy somewhere?

_ Still on the road. Mostly.

_ Lemme guess, a life of burned tires, gambling and getting dirty with the other love of your life?

One could hear the smirk from ten miles away.

_ Dude !" Sam exclaimed flustered. He still sported a nice smile. One that wouldn't reach his voice but Dean could see.

_ Oh... Am I on speaker?

_ Yes." Sam hissed, flopping into the nearby chair.

_ And he's listening?" This time the Brady guy didn't wait for an answer. "My, hello gorgeous Dean. Nice to finally meet you. ... So to speak. I heard so much about you.

Dean glared at the phone by lack of actual interlocutor; he didn't like the guy's tone.

_ Hi. Never heard of you.

_ Even his voice is sexy...

_ Brady." Sam stepped in. "I'm sorry but I didn't call just to catch up. I... am a bit stuck on something and I hoped you could fill me in.

_ I figured Win. No one does social call after that long; unless they need help.

Sam ran a hand through his still damp hair, wiped it on his trousers and got up again, sharpie uncapped.

_ It's medical field. Epidemics, to be more precise. You can help?

There was an intake at the other end of the call that made Sam visibly tick; he said nothing though, before Brady amiably agreed to do what he could.

Then Sam fired his wall of questions Dean did not quite follow, it was all about numbers and statistics and different diseases (flu and hepatitis were the ones Dean caught on). Sam was quickly filling the blank pages on the wall.

Not that Dean would be over his head if he _payed_ real attention to the thing, it wasn't that complicated, but he didn't know what turn Sam's researches had taken since the morning. So why strain your mind trying to figure this out. Sam would tell him, someday, what this is all about.

Dean would have been gone long ago, but for one reason: Bradly was friendly enough, and from what Dean could hear eager to help. But Sam was growing tense for a reason Dean couldn't fathom. A quick glance on his right showed him that Bobby too looked bothered. So Dean stayed, even if quickly bored out of his mind by the conversation, for Sam's uneasiness sake.

He knew better than address the subject loudly but the big brother in him was starting to get both worried and frustrated to see Sammy get tenser by the minute and still sound relaxed and friendly. Why did he call that Brady guy if he was on bad terms with him?

_ OK, I think I got everything I need there. Thanks dude.

_ Always a pleasure to help Win. I'm just curious, what will you do with all that? I'm not helping to plan a biological attack I hope?

Dean could see Bobby shuffle soundlessly. Sam huffed with humor.

_ Only virtually, that's classified but I'm working on a video game adaptation of Pandemic.

Brady whistled through the phone; he knew Sam had some coding skills, but not to that extent. Sam virtually shrugged, there were only so many things one could do when seated in a car for hours.

_ Boy, you have to give me your beta to test. The nights we spend on that game with Ted and Jerry!

Sam huffed, a fond reminiscent smile on his face. The first genuine expression Dean had seen today.

_ True... Just tell me where you hook-up and I'll come and make a home delivery.

Dean wasn't even sure if the dark, almost ferocious, glint that suddenly sparked in his little brother's gaze when crossing Bobby's was surprising or not. He felt a bit like he skipped the fourth dimension and jumped right to the fifth upon crossing the house threshold. Bobby wrote down the slightly reluctantly given address.

Then Sam started to ask about Mandy, Sara, Chad and Gus and Peter..., and Dean traveled through the last six seasons of 'Beverly Hills'. Apparently, College drama weren't that far from a Stanford student truth. Or Brady was broaching on the subject to make Sam laugh. Too bad it never reached his eyes, Sammy could really use so warm up nowadays.

_ And that old fart Christopher Bradbury?

Brady hissed through his teeth.

_ Cradbury? Oh boy... you don't know?... Sure you wouldn't, it happened soon after you left.

Dean huffed at the nickname. Got a glare from Bobby though. Geeze... those two...

_ What happened?

_ Well, one could say he got what he deserved: his wife has been warned of his little escapades. She confronted him in the middle of the campus, what a tantrum! They had to get the security to escort them to their house, she was about to throttle him. Last thing I knew, he hung himself in his basement to avoid prison.

That sounded a bit like someone.

_ What did he do to deserve this?" interjected Dean.

_ Stalking young couples and jerking of watching homemade videos of their making out. Or doing it live when he thought he could get away with it.

It was Sam who answered testily. Dean wondered if Sam was on edge because of Lucifer or some bad blood left between him and his friend.

_ That's sick, but sounds a bit much for a just desert.

His little brother threw him such a withering glare Dean reviewed his comment. Maybe, just maybe, Sam and Jess had been victims of that guy?

Actually, his comment had been prompted by the idea that Gabriel wouldn't likely deem 'stalking' as worthy of a death sentence. Unless the guy _did_ target Sammy. Since Dean had no tangible reason to believe it was their feisty angel behind this.

_ Then I'm surprised you haven't busted him sooner.

Turned out Sam had tried to; couldn't find the guy's personal server IP address. He was planning to directly go to the source, but Dean had broken into his house and life. And Sam never got the time to get through. Glad someone did though.

Dean zoned out for a couple minutes after that before zeroing again upon hearing his brother's most contrite tone.

_ Brady, I'm sorry. You ended up in a bad place on our second year, and I left before I managed to get you out. I... hope you're OK and... I'll come see you. I promise, there is a lot to catch up anyway.

_ Win, stop the mush please. You've done what you could. I'm good now. Got my degree at least, and a great job. I'm fine.

_ I'll come." Sam's tone was definite. There was no saying 'no' to that.

_ OK Win, whatever you want. My door will be always open for my best friend. See ya then.

_ Yeah... See you Brady.

Then Sam ended the call and carefully closed the lid of his flip-phone, and hurled the nearby brass paperweight into a wall. Dean stared for a moment before registering the angry move.

 _What the hell?_ Bobby spoke up before Dean had time to react.

_ Do tell me you did suspect something boy?

Sam looked like he was crumbling on place, reminding Dean of the Mystery Spot.

_ I _did_. When your best friend and one year long roommate comes from straight A's white socks to a party guy; yes you do. I tested him for everything I could think of. Demon wasn't one of them.

Sonovabitch...

_ When nothing came out I figured it might be pressure. Brady's father was a world renowned surgeon, lot of expectations. And Brady wasn't maybe as sharp as he was expected to be. He wouldn't have been the first one to crumble down under pressure. Nor the last.

Bobby nodded, Dean was listening, but it felt foreign. That his little brother's best friend from college turned out to be a demon still had to register.

_ So... Niveus Pharmaceutical and flu?" Bobby asked softer than his usual gruffness. Sam took a long look at his scribbling then nodded absentmindedly. "I can start with that.

Bobby left swiftly, laptop under one arm and his phonebook in hand, leaving the mess that Sam had become in a little over half an hour time to Dean to deal with. And his brain still had to catch up onto what had been said moments before.

Everything was pushed aside when Dean realized Sam was trembling. Not with suppressed rage but suppressed tears. He wished he had been able to make that difference earlier; it would have certainly spared them so many rows between Sam and dad.

He was already walking up to his baby brother when Sam turned toward him, defeated and worn, tears not yet sliding down his cheeks but too close for Dean's comfort, searching for support.

In a matter of seconds, Dean was kneeling before a Sammy slumped into the next armchair, one hand framing the well-known face, the other on one knee. Dean loathed thinking it, but he was relieved to see Sam finally reach his breaking point; it was awful for Sam, but at least it meant Dean was able to reach him now. More: Sam had called him out.

_ How many Dean? How many people I knew, or cared about, have been taken by them to monitor me? For how long?

It was barely over faint whisper, interrupted by many throat bobbing and half sobs. Topped with the most pleading eyes Sam had ever darted to him. Dean felt his own throat tighten in response and put his second hand on Sam's cheek.

_ I'm sorry love, I can't answer that question. I don't know either. What I know is: it's not your fault Sam. You were just a baby," he added when Sam shook his head, not really consciously. "If it's anyone's fault, blame Mom, who made that deal, or me who was right there and could do nothing to prevent it, or Azazel who plotted to make all that happen.

Sam was still shaking his head, half in denial, half because he was just so out of it. Most probably running every person he met (or remembered about) through that new scope.

Dean let him for a while. Selfishly, he'd rather have Sam lost in thoughts than catching on his slip. Hell, Dean hardly ever said that word; it was a word from before... And yet, it had simply come out before Dean realized it. He would tag it on the days worrying helplessly about Sam, and the sheer relief at being needed and wanted again.

Then Dean remembered, why his mind had immediately jumped at the idea that Gabriel might have something to do with the Bradbury guy. It was the day Dean had come to Stanford to get Sam to help find their father.

* * *

Dean had actually arrived midday and discreetly followed Sam around the whole afternoon, up to that bar he met up with the beautiful blond in a sexy nurse disguise. After John's being missing, Bobby's paranoia had kicked in Dean's behavior; he had heard his father talk about demons and worrying stuff before going AWOL. So Dean watched Sam, for two reasons: make sure it was Sam, and evaluate how much sedentary life had softened him.

It had; a lot. One whole afternoon and Sam never realized he was being tailed. Dean was both disappointed that the skills he had spent countless hours honing into his baby brother seemed to have vanished and grateful that Sammy got to really settle in his chosen life. Except for the fact it didn't suit his plans well.

When upon entering the overcrowded bar, Dean noticed both Sam and his girlfriend had drinks before them but were looking the other way to chat with some dudes. He didn't think twice before slipping discreetly some holy water in the glasses and keep on going to the other side of the bar to get a good stalking spot.

Too bad, the best place was already taken by a thirty-so woman with dark hair and green eyes almost matching his own. She was toying with a pinkish drink streaked with blue and an impressive pile of fruits perched over the rim of her glass. Luckily, there was a vacant spot just besides her.

_ Are you waiting for someone?" She didn't look like the kind of girl he usually hooked up with, so for once, he tried for polite. In fact she was making him feel a bit self-conscious. She had long eyelashes and gave him a lazy once over. Well... maybe?

_ Yes. But they won't come tonight. You may seat.

He thanked her and did as offered, still throwing regular glances at Sam's table. He had time to order a beer and drink half of it before his targets stopped talking and started drinking. He felt his shoulder relax when nothing happened. Not that he had been able to try silver and iron.

_ Which one?" He turned toward his neighbor, surprised. She chuckled, she had kind of a deep crooner voice. "I see you watch that table, I wonder: which one are you pining after?

She had gestured in direction of Sam's table. Dean had felt his cheeks flush a bit at being caught so easily.

_ Maybe because I'm doing the same..." She had added softly.

_ The boy's my brother. It's been a while. I'm not sure if I will be welcomed. Not sure I should barge back in his life. Mess it up.

He should have had been ashamed to let the truth so easily. It just came out before he thought about it. She had just nodded; she had looked a bit sad too. They drank in silence together for a while, Dean offering her another, she had a Bailey's, with Chantilly on top.

Dean had liked the fact she wasn't some picky veggies and fruits freak like he thought most Californian were. She had some comfy around the waist and clearly enjoying her creamy-sugary stuff. It suited her well.

_ Have you ever looked at a picture of someone from before you met them, and they just feel unfinished. As if they were readying themselves to become the one you know?

He never made himself that reflection; but once, while sniffing around at Bobby's he had stumbled upon a picture of a young Robert Singer and a nice lady. He never asked nor spoke about it. Still it had felt odd; Dean had never imagined a young Bobby. He could get what she was talking about.

_ He looks happy. Your brother.

_ Yeah... He weren't; I would have hauled his ass back long ago.

_ Back where?

_ To his family.

Sam left a while later, given the lingering touches, longs kisses he was exchanging with his girlfriend; Dean had better not get too soon into his brother's life. He elicited to stay a little longer, offered a new drink to the lady beside him (and spike it with some holy water just in case). Dean Winchester had never felt so little self-assured before a woman since he was fourteen, that didn't sit right with him. She had smirked, as if she knew, but drank nonetheless.

They chatted, Dean couldn't remember what about, he did try his luck, because he was Dean Winchester. "I'm not saying never, it is a very long length of time, but not tonight sweetie. Let me buy you another drink, keep me company for a while longer. You don't want to face a full moon anyway, do you?"

So, he had stayed a little more, then left to break in Sammy's house, hoping that at least, Sam was still sharp enough to pick up on being home invaded and fight. Other... the dude would be useless to Dean.

Turned out, Dean did not have to worry too much. And Sam was quickly back as if he had never left.

* * *

Dean, his hands still around Sam's face, their foreheads so close to each other he could feel Sam's warmth, dragged Sam into a fierce hug. Better that, than do something he would regret later. Sam got hold of him as fiercely, his hair tickling a little when he nuzzled into his brother's neck.

_ She wasn't one of them. At least, Jess... she was genuine Sam. I checked that day. I swear she was genuine.

It felt so little reassurance, but Dean knew she had be the one Sam had cared the most in his life out of hunt. And he would give Sam as much as he could.

_ And, let's say demons have been watching you your whole life, waiting for their time to come. Who says they were the only ones, huh?

Sam loosened his grip to look at him, questioningly.

_ Come on dude, don't tell me whatever happened to that douche bag didn't sound like _someone_?

Sam frowned, and shook his head: they didn't know each other at that time.

_ _We_ didn't know _him_ , sure. Hey, Archangel there, he probably knew us from the very beginning.

"Earlier than you could imagine." Gabriel said.

"You know, it was supposed to be your father." Alistair said.

Maybe Dean had an idea about how to get Michael out of his hole without himself having to say 'yes' to the Prince Douchey.

But before that, they had a Horseman to gank and a demon to torture, slowly.


	32. Chapter 32 - Sensualité

**Sensualité - Axel Red**

(Sensuality)

* * *

_ Remind me why we are roaming an hospital morgue in the middle of the night?" Came Dean's grumpy question from under a dissection table as the receding footsteps of the mortician got cut off by the heavy door leading to the side of the living.

Sam laughed softly, shaking his head at his brother's antics. They both knew why they were here: Sam wouldn't let Dean carve his best friend, not unless they were _certain_ the real Brad had left home.

And Dean had begrudgingly accepted some kind of middle ground: they would take a fresh body, exorcise the demon from Brady (hoping that the real guy would make it alive) and cram it into the empty corpse. Then the fun would begin.

Sam got out of his hide-out behind a locker and gave a hand to haul his brother on his feet and turned to look under the newcomer's sheet. Lucky them: the medic that almost found them had just brought a very fresh, barely scrapped body. Some old, pouchy, baldy.

_ Robert Badlum, 74, heart attack." Dean read from the label tied to the guy's big toe. "Looks like we got a winner. Let's pack-up!

The body was still warm and didn't look too bad. So they strapped it to a wheelchair and drove it toward the exit. At first Dean had proposed to disguise as meds or nurses; and snickered when Sam vetoed the idea forcefully.

_ Come on gramp', next time, maybe not two strippers at once. Your heart is no longer exactly pristine.

Sam rolled his eyes. Not that he wasn't glad Dean was in a somewhat good mood; but it was unexpected. A bit weird. And not really the time for goofing around.

_ Still, man you're a freak. Three post-it, a handful charts, some cryptic words from the Devil and poof... you figure out that Pestilence plans to spread the croat' through flu vaccine.

The choice of word might have been unfortunate, but the awe filtering through was balm to Sam's aching heart.

_ If I were that smart, I would have found out earlier. And _Bobby_ made the break-through.

Sam held the door open and they wheeled toward the back of the parking lot where the Impala was waiting. It was drizzling; Sam zipped his coat and hunched his shoulders against the cold water.

_ Still, how did you figure out that 'Brady' was a demon? Before the 'Christo' thingy.

_ He lied.

Dean negotiated a tricky turn with the wheelchair, ranted against a wayward car that almost caught him. Sam patted him on the shoulder, no need to draw attention.

_ About what? Not your memories, if he was already there this long...

_ The data he gave me, some I couldn't find, some I had before calling. He lied to everything.

_ But," Dean halted to open the trunk. "To ask about things you already knew, you must have had suspicions?

Sam heaved the body in the car whilst Dean stood on look-out.

_ From the day he came back different.

_ I mean...

Sam slammed the trunk shut, Dean was folding the chair to push it into the bushes; not caring to bring it back. Some charitable soul should find it soon enough and return it to the hospital.

_ I know what you mean Dean. Small details, mainly because he was too forwarding. I called mid-morning, he should have been more busy than that. Asked to call back later, gather the needed intel I was asking for.

Sam shrugged, himself wasn't certain he knew exactly what had ticked him. Dean was just pulling out of the lot when his phone rang. He gestured Sam to take it in is jacket pocket.

It was Cass, standing guard before the Niveus main office with Meg and waiting for Bradley Tyson to finish his day and come out.

_ He is there, but not alone, a young lady is with him.

_ Human?

_ Yes. A human, they seem very close.

"They 'bout to move some furniture..." Came Meg's voice from the background with an audible sneer.

Sam rolled his eyes but let it go. Well...he would have if Meg hadn't answered that she would show him when Castiel asked what she meant.

_ Meg, not defiling the candid one, would you?" It was an order, and strangely she took it. Dean on the other hand made a mix between a snort and a gag at the prospect.

Sam hastily changed subject and instructed Cass to follow them discreetly and wait for either: the girl to branch out, or to put her to sleep once they get wherever they were going and snatch the demon Brady as soon as they had an overture.

_ Just, make sure she's safe. She probably doesn't know what she's hooking up with.

_ I understand Sam.

Sam ended the call but kept Dean's phone in hand. Lost in thoughts. He started when Dean's fingers wrapped around his hand to pry the phone out and back into his pocket. Then he felt a pat on his knee.

_ It will be alright Sammy, we'll get your friend back." Sam made a dubious pout. "Cass will be there the whole time and treat right away any injuries the bastard might have inflicted on him.

That Sam knew, it wasn't what he was the most worried about. Brady has 'changed' in fall during their second year, a little more than eight years ago. It definitely wasn't Brady's body he was worried about but his mind. Who knows what the demon had made him do, has done to him.

_ You said his dad wasn't an easy man to get with. And he did though. I'd bet he's tougher than you think.

Sam sure hoped so.

_ Still: how did you know it's flu?

_ His lies, he lied about almost everything. But they had a different pattern for that particular disease.

_ Care to elaborate?

He should have kept his mouth shut. Why was he keeping asking when he _knew_ he would regret it? Sam launched himself into a twenty minutes long monologue explaining how Bobby had asked about the 'vaccine' post-it, wondering whether Sam thought of it as a medium. Sam hadn't, but it did make sense.

So they came up with a list of likely diseases that could be used, based on their non-lethality, commonness, spreading rate... Sam had already dug up some data about it the week before. That were the data he called Brady to complete.

Except that, Brady had seemed off to Sam in the first few minutes of their conversation. So he decided to ask about things he already knew, just to make sure. And Brady had lied about almost everything. Except that he lied differently about different things; most of the diseases Sam ha asked about, he simply downsized, or plus sized in a quite mechanic way. Flu, it was all over the place, nothing fitted.

Dean raised his eyebrows, and voted for not asking more; Sam's brain was a mystery better left unsolved sometimes.

* * *

The Winchesters were circling the room. Devil trap and others flourish firmly in place, under, around and above the chair the demon was tied on. On a second chair, still within the circle, they had tied the stolen, cooling corpse.

Castiel was poised behind the chairs, out of the circles and the demon's sight; ready to grab Brady as soon as the demon would be exorcised out of his host; leaving only the dead corps to invest.

It was Castiel who found the place, an abandoned shack in the outskirts of the city. Far enough to avoid nosy neighbors, close enough in case Brady would freak out. The middle of the woods did not tend to do well with terrified, traumatized people.

The really bad downside of exorcism was that they had to let the mouth free, to let the smokey goo get out. And darn that demon was chatty, and knew Sam enough to pull every one of his strings. To be honest, Sam was beyond caring about it right now, he was only worried about getting Brady out of there. And hoped that there would be enough of the poor guy left for him to recover.

The Brady he had known was one of the kindest guy he ever met, that was what Sam had liked about him in the first place. So, if push came to shove, he would most certainly deserve Heaven... He didn't want to have to resort to that extreme. Once had been more than enough.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Dean put the very last hand of their preps, a neatly lined collection of nasty looking knives, pliers, holy water, salt and other stuff... Exorcise the demon out of Brady's body was just foreplay.

Sam got antsy, each barb directed at him was making Dean more angry, and more prone to go overboard when it would come to get answers. And to had that day to the endless cortege of his nightmares.

_ Dean, you and your toys want some time alone or we can move on?

_ Yes Dean, want to steam of the sex tension before coming and play with me. Would be a shame if I give you a boner in front of your darling.

_ Don't worry about that, I like to watch." Sam deadpanned, unfazed by the demon leering tone. Dean smirked at him, back turned to the demon 'Kinky bitch' he mouthed. He clapped his hands to rub them together. "Let's get started then.

* * *

With Castiel help, the 'exorcise the demon, get Brady out of it and heal him' part had been easy enough. Until Brady realized he had full control of his body again, tried to kick Castiel and scurried away to huddle into a corner. Terrified.

The demon's essence was still hovering midair trapped between the painted circles all around it. The longest it would take him to get into 'pouchy' the better, at least now it was silent. Sam urged his brother and their angel to step back and moved toward the prone form of his best friend, or former best friend. He wasn't sure...

Mindful of his stature, he crouched long before his shadow reached Bradley, using what he knew would be his most soothing expression and gentlest tone to get the boy to look at him.

_ I'm sorry man... I... am sorry I didn't manage to get you out of this earlier. It should never have happened to you. Just because you were my friend...

Sam shook his head. He should have known better than to get close to civilians. Now he did.

_ I... remember...

Brady's voice was rough, wavering. Not extraordinary for a guy trapped into his own body for so long.

_ Remember what Bradley?" He asked softly.

_ You. Roomie. Sammy Win...chester.

Sam heard his own heart break. The guy was soo...

_ Yeah man, that's me. I thought there was something off when... when 'you' came back different. I couldn't find what... I'm sorry, I should have tried harder.

Bradley had his arms wrapped around him and was rocking back and forth, shivering. Sam took his coat and extended it. When Brady didn't react he simply put it down between them. HIs mind was whole but so scared, Sam wondered if he would ever recover.

_ I know... you tried. He... found it fu-funny. Watch you try...

Sam stifled a sigh. So Bradley also had memories from his possession. Like Dean would say : awesome...

It was good Sam had a strong hold over his own body, start when his friends hand finally reached his arm would only scare him further.

_ You we.. were a good ...friend Sam. You did ... what you could.

Brady was on all four, wanly trying to reassure Sam. Sam slowly got a hand up, to cup Bradley's face. It felt cold, and a bit damp, as if his body, despite Cass healing, was struggling to cope with the years of abuse. Brady drew back at first, surprised, then came again, rest his head against the warmth of Sam's hand. Latching onto the feeling. The first real contact in years.

_ You there now...

Afterwards, Sam carried Brady upstairs, where Meg had found a almost furnished room to let him rest. And drag him away from the demon that destroyed his life eight years ago.

Dean asked to soundproof the second floor, they didn't need to disturb the poor dude further with bloodcurdling cries. Oh... he would make the bastard squeal!

_ So, It's just you and me now gorgeous?

_ So it seems. Consider yourself lucky that Sam is actually more worried about his friend than about you. It won't last though. So...

Dean circled the chair Pouchy was strapped on, a spray of holy water in hand. Just to get started.

_ You really want to tell me everything about Pestilence plan and whereabouts before my brother comes back.

He was sprinkling some water on the demon every now and then. Not enough to really hurt; simply make it uncomfortable. It laughed.

_ I know your brother. I have literally lived with sweet, kind Sammy. Always trying to bring the poor lost Brady on the right path. You won't scare me with spooky stories of baby Sammy.

Dean gave him a strained smile. Here comes the fun. The holy water doused blade he planted through the demons hand made him squirm and hissed. Not screaming. Not yet.

It would come.

_ You have no idea about who my brother is. And I _almost_ wish you'll get to see yourself." He twisted the knife, the demon whined. "Too bad : you're stuck with me.

* * *

A little more than half an hour later, Dean was feeling a bit queasy. The demon that was assigned to monitor Sam's Stanford day was a cocky son of a bitch who had already 'confessed' he was the one who introduced sweet, pure, Jessica to Sam and the one to kill her 'mommy's way' (he ended up with a sucker punch to the jaw for that, and a few good mouthfuls of salt added with holy water to drain the pipe).

Dean knew he could up the game, he wished he wouldn't have to. But the fucker had so much self-confidence; it would be difficult to break him.

Keeping a firm mask on, he started carving Pouchy once more, slowly, dousing each slice with salt. He wanted to puke. But he couldn't back off now. There were only two ways out: get the bitch to speak and kill it, or kill it and get squat. So he went on…

_ Dean?

Sam's soft whisper filtered through the demons cries of pain when Dean splashed it with holy water, essentially to wash out the blood between two sessions.

_ Sam you shouldn't be there." Dean didn't even turn around to look at him and poured some more water. The demon screamed. The stench of blood was clinging.

_ It's Ok Dean, I manage. Bradley's resting.

The voice was closer, a mere foot behind him. Dean could feel Sam's breath against his neck, his hand sliding down Dean's right arm, curl around his fingers, pry the weapon he was holding out of his grip.

A shiver threatened to ran up Dean's spine. He wasn't sure whether the fact it was his brother was making it worse or more manageable. That he had no clue what Sam was getting at sure helped him keep his bearings. Especially when Sam bent to half whisper in his ear.

_ It's Ok Dean, you can let go. I'll take care of it from now.

And for a good measure, the little (well, Tall) bitch even bumped his head with Dean's. He half turned back, trying to convey his 'what the hell dude' in a way that wouldn't be noticed by the demon, but Sam's big frame was getting in the way. And kept on going, here an arm around his waist, a hand cupping his cheek.

The only reason Dean went along what because 'no dissention in front of the enemy', that had been drilled into his very core from a very young age. But Sam would hear about it.

Again.

Still, he couldn't ease the lump in his stomach when Sam drove him toward another room, as gentle as Dean was some fragile bride or... something.

_ So... you really did turn your brother into your bitch?" The demon laughed.

Dean didn't come back into the room, just because... He did stay right behind the door, to make sure: Sam, demon and blood in the same room simply didn't sit well into his mind. He knew Sam was off; he also knew Sam didn't trust himself in demon blood's vicinity.

A chair was dragged across the room.

_ Well... we don't do sex, but basically... Dean didn't lie to you. I'm much worse than him.

_ You think you can make me scream louder than he did?

_ I don't want to make you scream, it could wake Brady up." Sam's voice lowered from light and easy to sweet, almost caressing. "I could also drain you dry, and still have room for a dozen more. But, I just want to make you spill your guts.

Dean could hear the demon huff, unconvinced.

_ Sure Win, just ask, I'm always happy to help my best friend.

That was the easily recognizable sound of a hefty punch to the guts. It was itching to only hear and not be able to peek; the fabric tearing made him wonder.

_ You know what, I'm tired earing your shit. So, if you have something useful to say, just tell me ok?" His tone was still easy, almost playful.

Some muffled noises enlightened Dean, Sam had gagged the demon. The next thing he knew, the demon howled through the fabric, and a squelchy, wet sound of something falling/flowing. He couldn't help: Dean looked.

And almost rushed to the bathroom to retch his last two meals, at least. He did get out, feeling nauseous. He could make do with a bottle whiskey, or two, right now.

Sam had literally made Pouchy the demon spill his guts, in one swift slice.

When Dean went back, _like what eight, ten minutes later top?_ the body was joyously burning and Sam had two addresses: the labs designing the vaccines and a clinic where Pestilence was said to have its quarters.

The chill Dean felt down his spine was definitely not a pleasant one.

* * *

Na.

Hope you still enjoy.


	33. Chapter 33 - Si maman, si

**Si maman si - France Gall**

(If, mommy if)

* * *

When Brady woke up the first time, he had bruises due to mattress springs poking in his ribs, his cheek felt raw from the absence of beddings and his feet were cold. It felt wonderful.

He _felt_.

There was something warm and heavy wrapped over him, and wet noises somewhere near. He cracked one eye open. And wasn't it incredible?! Be able to move on his own again. First he could only see some brownish fabric, heavy looking. The jacket Sam have given him. He drew a hand up, to get the clothe out of his sight.

There was a chair on the other side of the room. On that chair, a trench coat clad man with dark mussed hair; he was mostly turning his back on Brady. On the man, there was a wavy dark haired, leather jacket woman, smooching him. From what he could see, she had a round-y face.

When she noticed him, she straightened herself a bit and winked at him.

He screamed.

Tried to scramble out of the bed. Landed roughly on the flooring. Her face was... distorted, like the one he has been seeing in the mirror for the last eight years.

He saw her get up, and say something he couldn't hear through his frenzy, then she came toward him and Brady nearly blackened out from sheer terror.

_ Cass? Cass ! What's going on?

It was Sam, a protective arm around his shoulders, talking to the man in a trench coat.

_ I... don't know Sam.

_ De.. demon, she is right..." Brady only then noticed she wasn't there anymore. "She was there, Sam I swear!

_ I know. It's Ok Brady. I know... I might be a bit difficult to take for you, but that one... She's with us.

He drew back, feeling betrayed. Will the nightmare ever _stop_? Brady clutched his hair with both hands. It just wanted it to end, to go back home. Please...

He could hear Sam scout closer. A pained huff, the rustle of disturbed hair. He looked up; Sam looked honestly concerned and a bit at loss. It was what had attracted Brady toward the boy in the first place. Not in a sexual way of course, but... like a puppy you just couldn't let hang under the rain.

_ And... him?" Brady nodded toward the trench coated guy still hovering in the background. "What is he?

_ An angel.

Brady's mouth went agape. Angels? Really?

_ Like what 'Seven Days for an Eternity'?

Sam furrowed his brows, trying to remember. Time hadn't been too good to him, most of the softness Brady remembered had slipped away, revealing the hardness that had only made brief appearances in his memories.

_ The book where God and the Devil make a bet." He supplied. "Each send their best guy on Earth to definitely win it over. The angel and the demon meet and they fall in love.

Sam huffed a laugh.

_ Well... yes and no. God doesn't give a shit about Earth for starters... And most angels despise humanity, at best. Castiel is a special breed.

Brady nodded. He got it... a bit. But the mere idea that a demon might still be in the house. He shot his head up.

_ Where is he? Is he still?...

Sam frowned a second before connecting the dots.

_ The demon who got you is dead. Definitely destroyed, it can't hurt you anymore.

_ But... there are others, aren't they? I remember him meeting others.

He was working himself into frenzy again; he knew he was. He couldn't help. It took a while before Sam's voice reached through him again.

_ Brady, there is a ball pen in my coat pocket. Can you give it to me?

Then Sam uncapped it and asked for Brady's hand. He carefully got his sleeve up and started drawing on the smooth skin. A flamed circle around a five pointed star. He added some zarbis outside the circle, looked like some kind of writing.

_ What is it?

_ An anti-demonic possession symbol, meaning they can't possess you anymore, my brother and I both have one too." He showed his tattooed clavicle. Let Brady explore it from the fingertip for a few seconds.

_ You don't have the others thingy.

_ They are only there to prevent the ink from fading or being swiped. It's not permanent but it will hold at least a week. If you really want to we can get you tattooed too someday.

_ Is.. that language?

_ Yes. A mix between Enochian, angel's writing" he elaborated at Brady's raised eyebrow. "and Nordic Runes.

_ You made that up?

Sam smiled at the awe laced in the comment. He shook his fluffy head.

_ No. Gabriel did this; he simply taught me some of it.

_ Gabriel? As in the angel Gabriel?

_ Archangel to be precise. But, he's not around anymore. We're not sure what had happened to him.

Sam helped him to get back on the dingy bed and sat beside him, it reminded Bradley of their year as roommates, when they were discussing the respective merits of Science Fiction and Science Fantasy. Sam was more a Fantasy Guy.

And maybe for the first time he remembered, Sam talked. About his family, their upbringing, the actual events, namely the Apocalypse. Bradley wasn't dupe; his friend was overloading his brain with more or less meaningful information to distract him from his predicament. He wasn't dupe, but he was grateful. That filled a whole lot of holes into the blonde's awareness.

He had witnessed bits and bouts of the demon possessing him plans and plots. They were scattered memories at best, and he had no clue about the end game.

Still, he didn't like to think about it, and Sam _perceptive as ever_ had noticed and turned once again the conversation on what he called 'the family business'. Some ghost stories they cracked, some boogeymen they came across, digging up graves in the middle of the night.

_ I get why you wanted to become a lawyer." He whispered half smiling. It was an odd sensation, smiling.

_ Shut up. He'll hear you." Sam returned a smile of his own; lightly shoving Bradley as the door opened, revealing Dean in the threshold.

_ Who will hear what?

The big brother drew a curious eyebrow. He looked so much like a dad catching his daughter being silly. When Brady's eyes caught Sam's, they both fell into giggling fits. Until the giggles were too much for Bradley's throat and ended in a coughing fit. Demons don't do giggles; they cackle sardonically.

_ Hey,..." The bulk guy was handing him a bottle of water, concern over his face. "You'll be alright?

_ Someday...

It was almost funny that through his concern, Dean Winchester was still eyeing his little brother to get an answer, persuaded he was the 'who' of the joke.

_ Sam, you'll have to continue your catch-up in the car, we need to get going.

There was load of things silently passing between the brothers. Bradley could only guess a very few of them. They were in a squat, not a place to stay for long if you didn't want to attract attention. And he had seen ...

No... he didn't want to remember. Or think. His hands were already trembling, knees weakening. Not good. Sam's jacket found its way back over his shoulders, heavy and warm. He drew in it.

Remember college, their friendship, it was better.

When he felt hungry, about a half hour into drive, the only thing that wasn't weird was Sam making a face at his request of some bacon burger. Bradley wasn't a burger man, but somehow it was the first thing that came to mind.

One of the few things he knew about big brother Winchester was his love for burgers. But even him seemed a bit green at the prospect. Eventually, Brady got his burger; the boys got coffees and a plate of plain pancakes to share. They even let him eat half of it.

* * *

The second time Bradley woke up, he was on a bed, under a pile of itching covers. Before he opened his eyes, he wondered if it was the heavy rain or the vibrating mini-fridge that woke him up. The room smelled like cold coffee and weed.

When he cracked a fretful eye open, it took time to remind himself; he was in a Motel room, near some Interstate. With the Winchester brothers. From the faint orange glow filtering through the curtains it was still night. The light was coming from the opened bathroom.

The rainy noise also was coming from there. There were voices too, and a great ass clad in jeans standing in the doorway.

_ ... ran cold or you just decided you wanted to catch pneumonia?

_ ... was already cold.

He could only hear parts of the conversation drowned by the shower noise.

_ You shouldn't... could have wrapped it up myself.

Dean moved further into the bathroom, turned off the tape. The silence was almost deafening. Then a soft rustle as the ever big brother threw a towel at Sam's head.

His frame obscured the light as he crossed the few feet of the room and made a gesture to get his little brother to move a bit.

From his place, Bradley could see Sam's arm and shoulder, sagged forward, and Dean's knee as he sat on the bath's edge behind his brother. From the occasional glimpse of white cloth and Dean's elbow movement he was drying Sam's long hair.

_ I know you could have Dean. And it would have been you in that shower. Or down the end of a bottle whiskey.

Brady heard a scoff answering Sam's soft concerned tone.

_ It had to end quick. That's all.

_ And for the little show there?" Dean sounded grumpy. "You promised me Sam.

_ I know. Avenging is one thing. There...

A loud sigh, probably from Sam echoed through the whole Motel room.

_ You told him he had the easiest end of the bargain dealing with you instead of me. And he didn't believe you.

_ How do you know that? Cass sound proofed the floor.

_ I know you Dean. And... I knew him; he thought he knew me.

There was a silence. Sam's arm came to rest on the knee next to him, his head leaning on the same arm. Brady could only see his hair though.

_ So you made me look like a wuss so he would believe you're the real hardass.

_ It had to end soon." Sam repeated tiredly.

After that, there must have been a few more words from the boys, but they were lost to slumber.

* * *

The third time Bradley woke up, it was with a start, terror filling his eyes and constricting his throat. Memories were catching up. The horror filled years he spent under the demon's dominion painfully vivid.

He had been dormant most of the waking times, unless he decided to make Bradley watch, for his cruel pleasure. But at nights, when the demon pretended he was sleeping...

He scurried away from the dark silhouette looming next to the cot. Huddled into a corner. A scream caught in his chest. The silhouette retreated, slowly, just a few steps away. It was talking but Bradley couldn't hear it through the deafening buzzing of his blood rush.

_ ... Breath... you... OK... safe here... Sam... back. Breath. Just calm down, it's safe here. It's OK. You do good. Slow.

Slowly, he recovered his bearings, the erratic thunder of his heartbeat downing to a steadier, but still fast, tempo. His hearing came back first, the concerned, rough voice a lifeline through the panic paralyzing his brain.

_ You good?

Concerned green eyes came back to sight. Dean. Sam's brother. He remembered a picture of them both Sam had in his wallet. He had always found their color stunning. The picture was far below the reality.

_ Someday maybe. In a thousand years or two.

_ Well, if you're good enough for sarcasm, you'll be alright. Not yet. But you'll be.

There was a foreign feeling floating just below the man's face. It took a long time for Bradley to recognize understanding.

_ You've been possessed too?

He shook his head, went by, came back with a bottle of water.

_ It'll do you good. And, no, I haven't. Sam was. By Meg. Don't worry; it only had been a handful days." He added quickly as Brady's breath started to labor again. "I still couldn't figure what she was trying to accomplish.

That last comment wasn't directed at him, so Brad simply nodded. Hopping Dean would talk more, even about nothings. It helped to have something to focus on.

_ I've been to Hell.

Bradley looked up from his twisting fingers. He couldn't have heard right? Dean has seated himself on one of the beds, busying his hands with some sewing. Buttons probably.

_ The actual, real Hell. Downstairs. Cass brought me back." It seemed Dean didn't need to see Bradley's expression to know the obvious question: how was he alive? "The weird dude in a trench coat.

_ Is he always wearing his coat?

_ Yup. The whole outfit, never seen him without his four layers.

Bradley didn't fail to notice that the man before him was already wearing a Tee, an unbuttoned shirt and a light jacket. And a heavier one was waiting to be shrugged on by the door. He smiled to himself but didn't voice his amusement.

_ What I'm trying to say is... there is no easy way to get through the funk. But there are ways. Find a drive, and a support: something you want to do badly enough it get you up most of the days; and someone you will get up for when the drive isn't enough.

Bradley nodded.

_ Isn't having someone enough?" He did ask though, a hint of sadness rising in his chest when Dean forlornly shook his head.

_ Not always. No one is infallible. Sometimes, the people you care the most about, and who cares the most about you, are also the one who hurts you the worst. Not especially because they want to. They can be misled, or think they are doing something right. But they're not.

_ Sam never wanted to talk about you. Not _you_ personally, but his family, his life before Stanford.

It didn't look like it surprised Dean. Maybe hurt a bit.

_ More like, he retreated back or deflected any time someone asked him about. But you let him... just be himself... he would often let small comments slip. Like, when I dragged him into a vegetarian restaurant "You would have to pay him gold or be an amazing lay to get Dean to set a foot in this place", or answering to people praising his pool and darts skills, that his brother taught him.

During the year they had been friends, Sam had let a lot of this kind of snippets drop, most often without realizing it. And hated being noticed when he did. His tall, kind roommate would brood for hours were someone to point those slips.

Not wanting to talk about them did not mean he didn't miss his family. _Bien au contraire_.

Brady had a whole collection of those snippets of Sam's early life, his frustration about their father, his admiration for his big brother, his own feeling of being misplaced everywhere he went. It all formed some sort of shadow theatre in the corner of Bradley's mind labeled 'Who is Sam Winchester?'.

_ You never struck me as the sharing type." He finished, circling back to the start of the conversation.

Dean shrugged, finishing the last knot on his task.

_ People change.

Sam came in a few minutes later, bags in hands.

_ Took you long enough!" Chided his brother, without a hint of annoyance.

The table was soon covered with a large choice of dishes: fruit salad, the kind of orange juice Brad loved (and was surprised Sam remembered), slices of different kind of pie, pancakes, omelet with potatoes and bell pepper, French toasts...

All things Brady enjoyed. He went to one knee before his savior.

_ Sam. Marry me." He proposed.

_ Nope, is mine!" Dean snapped faking jealousy and grabbing Sam's arm.

_ Idiots." Sam rolled his eyes good naturedly. "Dean, you let Brad chose first.

_ Traitor..." Dean mock-pouted.

* * *

It was dark. Again.

The place was an endless round of darkness and light, mimicking the Earth cycle of day and night. It wasn't Earth. There was no star to call Sun.

No star at all.

it was, more ancient, more primal than Earth.

The air was pure, devoid of the swarm of radio waves, polluting particles, and chemical stench that had invaded Earth's atmosphere. It was Pre-Earth, Pre-Universe, and Post-Everything at the same time.

_ Father? It's time to go. They'll find us if we stay longer.

He nodded. She was right.

He got up, his knees creaking, his whole body sore and barely hanging. He rearranged his clothing, making sure the deep stab wound on his chest stayed hidden under multiple layers; no need to attract attention.

He took the arm Jinx offered him, leaned on it, a little heavier every waking 'day' and listen at the soft thud of his sons' paws, lurking through the shadows, vigilant.


	34. Chapter 34 - Le Coeur en exil

**Le Coeur en Exil - Image**

(Exiled Heart)

* * *

Sam was feeling jittery. Now that Bradley was safe at Bobby's, far from well but already trying to find a way back home, his worries for Gabriel were coming back full force. They finally got to the last leg, and he couldn't wait to be done.

He couldn't wait to get rid of Pestilence, destroy all the data and existing samples of the Croatoan virus. And finally go ransack Hell, Heaven and everything in between to get his angel back.

_ Dude please, if you're not drinking that coffee, just drop the spoon.

Sam dropped the spoon he was endlessly stirring his black coffee with; didn't even bother to look at Dean. They were in a run of the mill, greasy, cafe. Dean was eating some sausage and mashed potatoes. All covered with heaps of ketchup.

So Sam'd rather stare at the window than the red-yellow goo on his brother's plate or Jo's overly sweetened pancakes. She had gone to the bathroom to freshen up after a whole night drive and hadn't come back yet.

And for this one, it would be just the three of them. The day before they made it back to Bobby's, Donna's site got pinged by a boy thinking weird things were happening in his community: lots of demons popping all around the place and the Padre's daughter suddenly becoming some sort of Prophetess, speaking tongues.

Cass was an obvious choice for this kind of mission, and he was positive the name of the girl wasn't in the Prophets List. Meg had decided that no one could pry her away from her angel (Dean might have coughed "Leech" at that point). They had added Ellen to the team to get at least one person knowing what she was doing.

Bobby was baby-sitting Bradley. Sam's friend needed time to get his bearings back and think of a way to mend the ties with his family severed by the demon.

From the few, scattered memories Bradley had about his possessed time, the demon that took him had become some sort of Horseman lackey, or stales man maybe? Basically, he was in close contact with them. Meaning that since they took him down; they were on a tight schedule.

The sigh of a happy couple, kissing and holding hands made him groan internally and drop back his gaze to the cup he was holding with both hands. More to keep his fingers from reaching again for the spoon than because he needed to.

His worries were steadily growing along the hole in his chest. Wherever he was, Gabriel wasn't getting any better. And Sam was plagued by the fear that they wouldn't find him in time.

_ Your friend was right.

Sam looked up to Jo. Since when was she back? How long had he disconnected?

_ About?

_ If it's true and he can spread his disease spores all around, trying to get close to Pestilence would be suicide. We need to find a way to take him down from afar.

Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Dean's snort. Barely. It was far from the 'barge in guns blazing' way his brother favored, but it was sound.

Sam did roll his eyes eventually. Who was he trying to kid? Even he had trouble wrapping his mind around, not getting at knife length to the opponent felt like... cheating. Still, he actually had bigger worries than playing fair with the bad guys.

He drained the last remnant of his coffee. He could never say it aloud, but they looked cute together. And Sam liked the way Dean's haunted expression softened whenever Joanna was around, how he would always angle himself to keep an eye on her. That was precious, and worth to protect by any means.

Not that Sam had any doubt about how much worth Dean's happiness was for him.

He was about to get up to pay for their meal when he got hit square in the chest and pushed back in the bench seat with a wheeze.

_ The Hell dude!" he looked up to a long black coat, black beanie, wearing guy.

_ Balt..." Dean started a bit too loud before being cut off abruptly by an angelic zipping finger.

_ Shut up! Sorry not coming earlier, I have no time to explain; they are on my tail. I got to go.

And before Sam even started to make head or tails of the angel's babbling, two fingers poked his head, and the world exploded as foreign memories were crammed into his head.

* * *

He was flying. He just knew he was, the landscape was a dizzying blur around him. Then it settled, guess meant he landed. The quick pace of his stroll didn't give much time to take in all, he could see the building, grey white, he could also smell the stench of fear, madness and medics. The overwhelming thing was that he could also feel, hear and smell each individual in the building. Where they were, what they were doing...

It was too much. Way too much for a human brain. So he tried to focus on one single thing, one random human somewhere not far.

Until he saw it. He saw _him_. It was muted, hidden behind layers of deception, the main one being his actual Sasquatch body. That was why he didn't see him right away, he had to get closer.

And he was getting closer by the minute.

He was shining. A brownish dusted gold glow, not unlike his (usual) eyes color, was showing through his skin, warm and gentle looking. And he had wings.

Well... obviously he had. He was an angel.

Archangel. Sorry.

One pair was pure light, so thick it almost felt corporeal, the same color as the glow. They were gigantic. And probably scaled down to fit his body size.

The second pair was too far from the human realm to be physically described; he could have never guess it was wings if he didn't _knew_. They smelled of warm sand, spices. It was what he remembered him smell like, but more complex, more rich. So much _more_.

The third pair was even further from his usual range of perception. It felt like sound, maybe, like a buzz coursing through his guts. More like a harmony of buzzes, playing soothingly on his nerves.

All in all, he looked and felt unspeakably... beautiful.

If he weren't already madly in love, he would be now. Mesmerized he didn't even realized they were talking.

They took off again, just after some frenzy broke into the ant nest and got his mind to shut down for a moment. Too much information rushing to him. When he got his sense of surrounding back, they were on a shore, warm place.

They talked. He tried not to listen to closely, angel talk was very overwhelming. He basked into the feel of _him_ instead. Until the song shifted. Others angels were coming, fast and angry.

He took flight again, but not that far. He hid, too far to hear anything, just close enough to see that soon a last angel came to the party. An archangel. Muddy. Not that he was tainted or something. More like his light was troubled, meddled with doubts, uncertainties. Sorrow.

The scream that rapidly followed the muddy archangel's arrival was beyond blood curling. It felt like the Earth itself was crying in grief, one of the Creation child was suffering beyond pain itself. Beyond the point where he should have been given the mercy of Death.

Having his heart torn from his rib-cage on top a dozen yearlong detox from demon blood would have been less painful than witness this torture.

Before he had time to adjust; they all took another flight; him far behind the others. Stealth. It was getting exhausting, he wouldn't be able to keep up, and his mind whole, for much longer.

They ended up near a cave. Huge cave. Muddy said, or did something, or both. But the entrance of the place was suddenly filled with an air, aroma, a feeling so foreign it couldn't be Earthian. He had no idea where it came from. And suddenly, the tortured, golden light disappeared. The un-Earthian feeling faded away. The angels and Muddy Archangel took flight back toward Heaven.

He waited for a long time before he dared advance toward the cave, with great precautions. There were not much living things in the area. Mostly plants. Even insects were scarce.

It reeked of death.

Despite his profound disgust and reluctance, he went into the cave. Even down the Hell deep pit in the cave. There was nothing. Not a clue about where golden light was. He was returning to the land of the livings when he realized an angel had come back.

He hadn't been careful enough. He was busted, and now had to run for his life. He could only hope that a pair of apes and the sister he hadn't been able to protect could set all this mess right before he got caught.

* * *

When he got back to his senses for the second time, his mind still reeling from the onslaught of angelic memories, Sam was curled up into the backseat of the Impala. That much he could tell mostly because of the smell of it, because he has grew up on that vey backseat.

He was crying all the tears he had. Sobbing miserably and unable to get a grip on his reactions.

It took long before he was enough out of his funk to realize Dean was speaking to him, worries all over his face, stance and tone.

_ Dude, don't make me beg, talk to me. What did that son of a bitch did to you? Do I have to get some holy oil?

Sam shook his head. Tried to find his voice back, after his earing and eyesight. He swallowed. Almost chocked on his own saliva before he remembered how his pipes worked.

_ I...

Good job Sammy, you managed a vowel. Take a breath.

The second try was more successful.

_ I know what ha... happened. To Gabriel.

He tried, but couldn't hold back the new tears blurring his vision. Nor the helpless, pleading look he threw in his brother's direction.

_ It's OK Sammy. It will be OK. We blow up Pestilence, and got get Gabe. It will be alright.

Maybe Dean believed that repeating it would make it true. Sam had lost that faith when he had felt Gabriel's terror into his very bones weeks ago. And his last thread of hope when he heard his scream.

Maybe Dean's faith would be enough. Dean's faith could make the world spin backward if he wanted to. His faith in what they were doing, in the rightness of their fight.

* * *

Dean lowered the binoculars and gave them to Jo lying beside him.

They were on the roof of a building next to the geriatric clinic the demon Brady said to be Pestilence's lair.

They had dropped Sam at the Motel and came to scout things a bit. Find which guy is Pestilence for example. The obvious answer would be a member of the staff, someone who could come and go as pleased, probably a doctor.

_ War's car was a red Mustang. Famine was a black big thing. Wonder what Pestilence's is supposed to look like.

_ Good point." Dean agreed. "Why don't you go for a stroll? You'll just have to pretend be the nice grand-daughter coming to see Granny if someone asks.

_ Sam's right, you really are such a jerk.

_ The jerk you love, it should count.

She shoved him in the shoulder, then kissed him as she got up and headed to the fire escape.

_ Jo." He whisper called her. "Stay where I can see.

He was moving discreetly toward the long range shotgun they had installed.

_ I'm covering you up. Stay safe.

_ Don't worry hotshot, I know what I'm doing.

_ I always worry.

_ That's what makes you so cute." She blew him a kiss and left for good this time. Dean only caught his breath when he was able to see her again, her pony tail waving behind her.

She wasn't' the only one he was worried about. Sam had been almost catatonic when they left him behind. And Dean wasn't even sure what had happened to Gabriel, what Balthazar had done to his baby brother. Sam hadn't speak much after the few words he uttered in the car, and half of it were not English.

When Jo went back from her sniffing around, it was with a victorious grin and a thumb up. How much would he bet that Pestilence's car was the old, greenish, shabby, disgustingly littered with junk, Mustang whose plates were SIKN*TRD?

_ I think I even got a plan to get rid of him, real'easy. Now that we got his car.

Dean really wasn't fond of that plan, but beggar can't be chooser, and Sam's state of mind was worrying him. So it would be it. Clean and quick.

Well... clean...

Next stop: find a hardware store.

It's been a long time Dean hadn't crafted himself some homemade bombs.

* * *

Still there ? I didn't loose you yet?

It's OK, won't drag it for too long.

Hope you'll still enjoy till the end.


	35. Chapter 35 - Je te vends mon âme

Je te vends mon âme - Kyo

(I sell my soul to you)

* * *

It took Sam a while to sort out those new memories. To find back who he was: a human mind was so small compared to the intensity of an angel's one. Sam was probably lucky that particular angel had been human before. And wasn't nearly as old as most of his now siblings.

He looked up the clock. That same weird sun shaped wall clock that seemed to pop up in almost every motel room they ever got to. Was it some 'congrat's you're a motel owner here a dozen ugly clock to hang on the walls' welcoming gift?

6:30p.m.

Apparently, it was taking Dean and Jo a little more time than expected to scout the area of Pestilence's lair. Or maybe they made a stop to enjoy being together. Sam kind of hoped they did, didn't think they would.

He had seen Dean's look when they left. Sam had assured them he simply needed time and rest. But his worrywart of a brother wouldn't have it, not until he'll get to see Sam recovered himself.

Except that Sam wouldn't recover. From the overload of memories: easy, given enough time. But from what happened to Gabriel? The depth of the wound Raphael inflicted on him. It was on Sam. Ad now, he knew why his own chest was growingly aching since he lost his connection with the archangel.

When he had Gabriel make the promise he had, Sam has tied the angel's fate and life to his own soul. Gabriel should be dead by now. Assuming he was on life support, draining Sam's soul to keep his own grace from exploding, was a step Sam was willing to take. He felt that bad.

If they did not find Michael soon, and manage to have him help get to Gabriel, none of them would last much longer.

It was with that in mind and time on hands_ he wasn't going to give his brother a heart attack by not being there when he would be back_ he fished back a pet project he had been on with Gabriel's help, before he disappeared. It was almost finished, was supposed to be before the end of January. But like usual, shit happened. And Dean's birthday had been skipped throughoutly.

Besides, Sam thought, manual task, asking for concentration and little thinking, might help push the foreign memories in the background.

He wasn't even sure when they were exactly. He had been in kind of a funk lately, and every day was like the other day. He wasn't sure how long. Lucifer had said weeks. How many weeks?

Sam shrugged, it didn't really matter. He simply wanted to finish it. Before the end.

Whichever end came first.

* * *

When Dean came back to the Motel, heavy bags full of wires, prepaid phone, pounds of nails and... useful stuffs, he was surprised to see Sam up, apparently well and looking oddly sheepish.

They also made a stop for food. He even got a chicken salad for the picky Sasquatch. And some beers. He was on a diet, Jo and Sam didn't have to be too.

_ What's that all for?" Sam asked before Dean had time to inquire about the furtive hiding motion he caught upon entering the room.

_ We're gonna bomb Pestilence's car." Joanna chirped as she closed the door with her boot, hands full of groceries bag.

_ And how do we know which car is Pestilence's?

Dean turned off the chatter, he got to see the car himself, there was no mistake. It fitted perfectly: you could catch syphilis just looking at the thing. So he let Jo convince Sam it was a good plan, and set things up on the wobbly table.

Not good when you're playing with explosive stuff. He dug into the bin to find some carton to stabilize the table. Found a January old news-paper with a few torn pages. Odd, but that would work.

Once the table was evened out, the three of them worked swiftly under Dean's directions: mix the chemicals, get a remote detonator working, and tie the whole thing up to make it fit under the car.

_ Shouldn't we monitor his schedule or something tonight? Make sure he will be anywhere his car at a given time in the day? And damn sure it's him?

The device was ready, Sam packing it up into a crate found in the back of the convenience store. Careful not to dislodge anything. Dean really could give MacGiver a peg for his money.

_ That's what took us so long," Jo answered while cleaning the table to make some room for the dinner. "We did stay to see when, or if, he would leave the clinic.

_ Looks like he's still trying to lay low and pretend to be a normal being. Jo heard him say good bye to a nurse when going out. She got lucky: heard the lady remind him of an appointment at 7 a.m. tomorrow, at the clinic.

_ We also followed him to his 'home'. Nasty place, almost as disgusting as his car. I pretended I was from some Health agency and asked a neighbor since when he was living here, how long the house had been so unsanitary. The timing fits. And the sudden break of flu in the neighborhood too.

_ So... what do we do? We eat, go to his home, trap his car and wait till morning?

_ Well. He might not sleep, but he'll pretend. So, we will take a nap, up at 3 a.m. The thing must be under his car before the first joggers get up.

Sam's eyebrows shot up; where the guy was living that Dean would get warry of joggers?

_ Suburb. He lives in a dingy hole, but close to Wisteria Lane.

Wiste... What? Picking on his confusion, Dean snickered.

_ Never heard of Desperate Housewives Sammy?

_ Oh... Heard of it, yes. Shame on you for watching that... thing, Dean.

_ Why? They are pretty hot and scantily clad.

Sam held one hand up in surrender, hiding a smile behind a forkful of chicken. Dean sometimes could dig up some fancy words to cover his shameful guilty pleasure: soaps and romcom.

* * *

The room was quiet, Jo was asleep, curled up against his side. Sam's breath was even, but Dean was certain he wasn't sleeping either.

_ Sammy?" He breathed softly.

No answer, but a slight change of pace in the rhythmic gave his brother away. God he felt further by the day. As if soon he would be entirely out of reach.

_ Talk to me. Please.

There was a more profound breath. As if Sam needed to gather his wits before speaking.

_ Balthazar, he... gave me his memories. From when he found Gab' at the mental facility to the point he... disappeared from Earth.

That much Dean already knew, Sam told them so before they let him at the motel in the afternoon.

_ I... saw him Dean. I saw Gabriel, through Balthazar's eyes. The way another angel might see him. In fractions, there is too much at once for a human mind to get it all.

_ You won't stay with us, will you? When you get your angel back. That's why you pushed me to find someone else.

_ No Dean. I don't want to leave you. And you know Gab' wouldn't even try to separate us. We can have each a lover and a life, and still be brothers. Most people do." Sam's voice was soft and warm.

Dean let the silence settle for a while; pondering if he had just been victim of some "Sam's truth". That was a thing he never thought much about, Bradley pointed it to their attention over dinner at Bobby's.

Sam Winchester would have made a damn good lawyer; if only because he knew so well how to be slippery, how to not say the truth without lying. Deflective. Apparently, Sam was famous amongst his friends for that. And it really felt like that right now; Sam didn't lie, but he wasn't truthful either. Not entirely.

_ Zach was the one who found Gabriel. But it was Raphael who stabbed him to death and, since it didn't take, threw him down to ... it didn't smell like Hell. Or... like the smell we got when Jake opened the Devil's gate.

Dean had a hard time getting that chill to back down.

_ Sorry..." Sam muttered. "I'm starting to really think he's in Purgatory". Not that Gabriel even gave Sam the name of the place creatures' souls went after they died, but he did some research afterwards.

_ So you're saying Gabriel is like a walking dead in monster land?

_ Pretty much.

Sam's tone was weary, and Dean was afraid to ask the next question. Maybe because he already had doubts about the answer.

_ And, he's still alive because of the... deal you made or something?

_ Yes.

_ Any... any idea how it works?

_ Not sure." Sam made a pause, then: "Sleep Dean.

And there, Dean knew Sam was outright lying. He knew, and didn't want to tell him.

Somehow, he couldn't find the gall to call his baby brother on this. He didn't really want to know anyway.

Or maybe really didn't want to know. Instead he extended his hand toward the bed across the nightstand gap; frustrated that he could barely graze the hem of Sam's bedcover.

_ Sam?

The single syllable wasn't finished he felt a firm hand take his.

_ Still there Dean. Sleep.

Sam squeezed his hand once and let go.

* * *

The night was cold and crisp, there was no one up, not a light on, when they arrived at Pestilence's place. His car haphazardly parked along the road. It looked almost too easy.

Dean had dropped Sam, Jo and the crate at the corner of the street and had the Impala parked out of sigh from the target's house. He then came back to install it while his brother and girlfriend would stand guard; make sure they wouldn't get caught by some early bird.

It was fast, duct tape the device under the car, plug the detonator in and get the hell out of there. They only had to wait for Pestilence to get in the car and push the remote button.

Easy, peasy.

It really didn't sit right in Dean's mind. There should be more guns and blades and blood. They should be doing more than just sit on their hands and wait. He couldn't believe Sam and Jo started to play Word Chain to spend time.

They were all huddled behind a fence, white piquet fence, two numbers down the road, with an open view on the Horseman's lawn. The pile of journals on the porch were good indication this house has been empty for a while. That and the knee high grass.

He felt antsy, his hands constantly checking his pockets for his weapons, gun, blades, the damn bobby pin Sam bitched him into keeping in his boot, flask of holy water in the breast pocket. He almost drew his gun on the first jogger that went by.

Jo started to massage his shoulders to get him to relax but it only got him annoyed. And even more that he let her, not wanting to look ungrateful. It was Sam who found a solution by making her move on the pretense he wanted more room to extend his legs.

Dean would love a massage, but later, when they'll be safely back to Bobby's.

_ People are starting to get out. We can't stay longer, someone's gonna get suspicious.

_ Good thing our friend is pointing his nose out then." Jo piped up.

Even afterwards, Sam would have trouble retelling what exactly happened.

At one point there was Pestilence car roaring up to life, starting to pull out its parking place. Dean had his finger on the detonator, waiting for the car to get further from the others parked cars. They didn't want to create some chain reaction.

Then there was a kid on a bike who came out of nowhere, Jo's shout of warning. Sam was one second late to take her back into safety. Too focused on his task, Dean didn't see any of it.

Sam found himself dumbfounded, staring back at an eyeball that had rolled just beside his knee. His ears were buzzing, his head swarming in cotton. The trunk he had smashed into seemed a very convenient backrest to nurse his dizziness.

It was Dean's cry of utter despair who pierced his daze first. It chilled him to the bone, making his whole body feel like lead, his stomach stone iced.

He didn't look, he didn't even tried to. For what? See Dean, face as stricken as his howler suggested, holding Joanna's limp body in his arm. If she was simply dead and not horribly mutilated.

No thanks.

He was just grateful the orb staring at him wasn't the right color.

So instead he prayed.

Not to Castiel, Dean's guardian angel seldom answered Sam anyway.

Gabriel or Balthazar weren't any option either.

 _You come here and you fix her. You hear me? She can't die. You have to fix her, bring her back. And don't even try to pretend you can't, you already did. You even brought me back from a friggin' acid bath. And I know Gabriel wouldn't prevent you to do good. She can't die, Dean won't make it alone. And I'm certainly not gonna leave him alone._

And he went on, on the same vein until a tall, dirty blond haired man, with a peeling face, came to face him, hands behind his back.

_ Of all the traits you could have taken from your brother, you had to choose 'Bossy'. She was supposed to die during the Horsemen hunt. Nothing I can do about it.

_ Too bad, me neither, then." He retorted angrily.

Lucifer's eyes narrowed dangerously.

_ Sam Winchester, you do realize you are testing my patience?

_ Just do it, or I won't." Sam simply answered stubbornly. "And don't try to threaten me with the end of the world. Gab's gone, if Jo die, Dean will follow. I won't have anything worth fighting for.

_ The things I could do to you Sammy, you have no idea.

Sam uttered a bitter laugh. Coughed a bit too; his flying into a trunk didn't seem to have done him any good. For what he cared...

_ You'd better hurry, I won't last much longer anyway.

_ The things I could do to _him_." The Devil nodded toward Dean, contemplative, as if he was already envisioning all the torture he could inflict his brother's vessel. That's only when Sam realized the sounds around them were oddly muted. The movements sluggish.

Lucifer seemed to have slowed time around them to give their discussion some privacy.

_ Stop pretending you don't give a fuck and bring her back. Or you can rot here, waiting for a brother who will never come. As a matter of fact, I do have a plan to get him to see you. Just need to find him first.

Lucifer payed him no heed; He kept looking at Dean for a while, Sam didn't let his gaze waver from the Devil until he turned back to him.

_ I'm curious, the acid bath: you simply jumped in it, or you killed yourself first?

_ Slit my throat." Sam simply dropped. Was his inability to move a finger also a side effect of the time meddling?

_ It's a quick but not immediate way to die.

_ I know," Sam cast his eyes downward, that at least he could do. Or did he simply though he was moving his eyes and mouth? Was he even into the real world? "Brain is a bitch to wash off the walls.

_ Why stop at three attempts anyway? I was starting to look forward to your next creative way to die.

_ Stupidity is trying to do the same thing over and over and expect a different result." Sam quoted flippantly.

Lucifer squatted down before him. Leisurely eyeing Sam with curious eyes. He swallowed, he didn't like that look. Even less the smile Lucifer shot him.

_ I'm not sure I told you, I listened to your advice, went to India. Strange people. They treat their cows better than their wives and daughters. Better than their own kind, when their religion is asking them to respect all life on Earth and teach them that humanity is the highest state of consciousness. _Not that I agree with that part.

Sam shrugged, he had no idea where this was going, and frankly, he couldn't care less. He just wanted Jo back, so that Dean would have someone to lean on when he would break his promise, one last time.

_ Humans are full of contradictions, nothing's entirely white or black, good or evil. What shall I say, we are emotional beings, not logical ones. Fear and hate is easier than forgiveness and kindness.

_ That's why those who keep on trying to do good and be kind despite everything thrown at them deserve to be protected?

There was something burning into those golden-red eyes. It seemed that Lucifer was trying to make him say something, was looking for a specific answer. The Hell if Sam knew what.

_ Everyone deserve to be protected against the dangers they have no clue about.

_ Then why none of you just spread the truth? Tell everybody that monsters exist," He put his hands on either side of his mouth as a loud-howler "Hey people monsters are walking amongst us! Be ready, be wary!

Sam snorted, he felt exhausted. And chatting with the Devil would honestly never stop to be nerve fraying.

_ It would make your minions useless, the psychosis will bring Hell on Earth as surely as you ever could.

_ So you'd rather suffer and be the buffer between Eve's children and the blissfully ignorant? You do know that humanity you try so hard to protect holds quite a few would be monsters too.

Sam shrugged again, he'd been the 'buffer', like Lucifer said, his whole life. Never thought about it, it simply was who he was. He had tried to be some else. Never really took, did it?

He spared a glance in Dean's direction. His brother was still hunched over a woman he loved, his face distorted in despair. Sam couldn't help but feel lucky he couldn't see how bad the damages were. The eye ball wasn't hers: that was all he wanted to know.

_ Just bring her back. He needs her. He won't get back from it. Please.

He loathed himself for begging the Devil, but Dean's face. He'd do anything to wipe that expression off his brother's features. Even say yes to Lucifer, if it could be of any use.

He glanced back to the blond man in front of him. His face looked a bit better than last time. They both knew there was no point in Sam allowing him to use his body. It wouldn't help anymore.

_ I've read a tale, it was about a young man who freed a djinn out of a bottle. In thanks, the djinn granted him three wishes.

Yeah... sure. The Devil reading tales. Sam must have hit that trunk harder than he thougth.

_ You and your brother are two down. You sure you want to make that one your last and third?

Sam nodded immediately without a second thought.

_ Bring her back. I'll bring you a Michael ready to listen.

_ How do you plan to do that?

Sam shot him a drained smile and simply asked again for Lucifer to bring Jo back. That was the only thing he cared about. The one thing his mind was able to think about right now.

Lucifer snorted, then shook his head, amused for reason Sam couldn't fathom. Wasn't sure he wanted to anyway.

_ Sam Winchester, you are the most selfishly selfless bastard I've ever met. And, trust me, I've seen plenty.

He stared at the lone eyeball by Sam's knee in silence for a few seconds before making his mind, and stand, up.

_ You'd better deliver Sammy boy." He warned, then snapped his fingers and the world started to spin right again. Dean's sobs were hitting Sam's ears full force. Then…

_ What the Hell you're doing here? Back off!

Lucifer payed Dean's feeble attempts at keeping him away from Joanna's body no heed and put a hand on her forehead. A light glow started then flickered as Lucifer shot Sam a surprised look.

"What?" Sam mouthed, at loss.

Lucifer shook his head and put a second hand on Jo's abdomen. The glow came back for a few seconds then settled in. Jo coughed and her lungs wheezed, trying to remember how they were supposed to function.

Lucifer stood, not sparing them a glace. Looked toward Sam "You'd better go before someone calls the law enforcement corp." Still too tired to try for more, Sam nodded his thanks as the archangel took off.

The relief on Dean's face was the only thing he wanted to see. He tried to get up, join them.

Erm... maybe his body feeling like lead wasn't due to the time meddling...


	36. Chapter 36 - Laisse moi rêver

**Laisse moi rêver - Lara Fabian**

(Let me dream)

* * *

Dean was confused. Dean didn't like being confused; it tended to make him angry.

Honestly, he had no idea what happened.

Or more like, he could probably sort this out. Could have easily, if it hadn't happened all at once.

One second he had Sam and Jo safely behind him, Pestilence coming their way in his hepatitis inducing, mucus colored, car.

Then a damn kid came out of nowhere on his bike.

The next thing he knew, Sam was sprawled against a tree and Jo was gutted with a torn part of the sickly green car, protecting the kid with her body. Dean had jumped at her side, taking her body in his arms, thus easing the child from under her. As soon as he was out, he ran off, howling in fright. Forgot his bike on site. He couldn't have been more than five.

It's a trauma that would probably follow him his whole life. Sadly, Dean didn't have enough of his mind to feel sorry for the boy. Maybe later.

He tried to take Jo's pulse but there was too much blood, his fingers kept on slipping on her wrist. Too much blood for her to be alive.

Suddenly, before Dean had time to snap out his shocked state to call for any help, Lucifer was there. Lucifer of any people! Not that he was really folk.

And now, he had a girlfriend that wasn't dead and a collapsed brother that was the only one who could have called the Devil.

Call the Devil for help! Dammit! He sure hoped Sam hadn't done something as stupid as trading his life to the Devil for Jo's or Dean would kill him!

First thing first, he made sure Jo was Ok, helped her to her feet and gave her the car keys. Lucifer was right; they better not stay too long. Then he went to take Sam's pulse.

The relief from feeling a rhythmic pulse almost knocked him out. Sheer stubbornness, and the sense of urgency settled in his gut, were what kept him still moving. Sammy's pulse was steady but weak.

There was not external damage he could see, but Sam had crashed into that damn tree pretty hard, so he couldn't entirely rule out some internal damage. Since he couldn't do anything about it, Dean busied himself with waking Sam up and haul him into the waiting car.

Jo had left the engine running but hadn't stayed behind the wheel. She was wandering around the fuming wreak, using a branch as a stick. When Sam was safely settled in Baby's back seat, Dean turned fully toward her, ready to enjoin her to hop into the car. She was dragging something out of the embers with her stick, a lump of flesh.

Dean's stomach squirmed a little as she took the thing with bare hands. When she came back to him, she was holding the ring.

_ Figured it would do not good to let this lay around. Imagine it suffice to put it on to become the next horseman.

Dean approved, hugged and kissed her briefly and they took off. Sam was barely conscious, for the second time in as many days, and it worried the big brother.

He couldn't help but also throw brief glances toward Jo. She was pale, but breathing. He was surprised she wouldn't be more curious about how she got out of there unscathed.

_ I'm fine Dean." She finally breathed, a bit annoyed, a bit weary.

_ You weren't five minutes ago.

_ I know. I was dying and you were screaming in my ears. I'm not sure I was conscious enough to see who healed me though." She added absentmindedly.

His heart made a backflip, and his throat constricted. She was dying. He knew she was. Damn, he was holding her slack corps in his arms as she was bleeding out in front of him. It had felt like losing Sam all over again. A person he loved mortally wounded right in front of him and being helpless. Sam wouldn't have turned his back on Jake if Dean hadn't distracted him. Jo wouldn't have been caught in the blast if Dean hadn't triggered the detonator.

He felt a hand on his forearm, soothing his too taut nerves. Jo was looking at him with worries, silently asking him to come back to the present. And she was right; he still had a mission to carry on: make sure Sam was, or would be, OK.

He could collapse later. When Sam would be fine. When Jo would be safely back home. When the millions year old fight between the Devil ad his pigheaded brother would end.

_ Dean?

Sam soft whisper from the backseat had him release a breathe Dean wasn't aware he was holding. A quick peek in the rearview mirror told him Sam was trying to untangle himself from under Dean's jacket and straighten up. He hissed a few times on the way.

He was hurt.

_ Jo?" Sam asked again, when mostly straightened up.

_ I'm here Sam, and alive. Thanks for calling for help.

Dean disagreed very much with that; and was about to voice it when Jo's hand pressed heavier on his arm. He shot her a dirty look she answered to with a soft smile.

So that's what it was like to be a boyfriend? Indulging one's girl to make her happy with you, no matter how much you disagree with her point of view?

That sucks.

A bit.

Not enough for him to want to draw back anyway. She got him good by now. If he weren't so worried about Sam in the backseat, he would probably have pulled over and made out with her by now. Even made love to her if she was ok with it. Just to make sure and certain she was there. Release the excess relief she was still breathing.

She still had her hand on his arm. It wasn't enough, but it would do until they tuck Sam in bed and get a second room.

_ How did you get the Devil to help, anyway?" He did try to refrain from sounding too angry, but he needed to know.

_ I didn't promise him anything more than what we were already committed to." Sam half shrugged. "He said something about a tale with djinn and three wishes; that it was our last one. Now, we have to deliver our end of the bargain. That's all.

_ And the Devil suddenly became nice. As if I'm gonna believe _that_.

Sam hissed in pain again as he changed position in the cramped backseat. Then dismissed Dean's last outburst.

_ Got any idea about how to get to see Michael face to face?" He asked instead. "I have one to get him to listen, but it won't be any use if we can't get to him in the first place.

That must be the lamest change of subject Dean ever heard of. But... well... he could understand that Sam would be anxious to find Michael as soon as possible. Before they lose Gabriel for good.

Dean mulled for a while about his answer, he had the very beginning of an idea, a very farfetched one. It was supposed to be some kind of last resort. But it also looked like they didn't have much time to find better ideas.

And Dean was about sure of one thing: he would lose Sam if they didn't manage to get Gabriel back. He loathed thinking this, but it was clear as day; Sam wouldn't survive one more lover's death, especially this one.

* * *

Sam closed the door behind him with a relieved sigh. Dean was almost literally hovering and, even if it always felt nice to know Dean cared enough to hover, it was a bit of a burden right now.

After flushing the toilet, he dropped his shirt and drew his tee up, his lower back has been killing him ever since his wrestling with a tree. He made a face at the revealed flesh; he had deep dark bruises spreading from his buttocks to his mid back. He was lucky not to have broken his spine. And was starting to wonder if he hadn't busted a kidney or both.

It would give some sense to some of Lucifer's gibberish. If he had kidney failure, Sam would be on a clock and better hurry to "deliver".

He sighed and dressed back up; before Dean decided he was taking too much time and asked to see the damages. Sam had already caught too many concerned glances. He'll need to get to a pharmacy and find some balm if he wanted to avoid inquisition. He did swallow an Ibuprofen and got out of the bathroom.

Maybe he shouldn't have worried too much about Dean getting all mother hen over him.

He was welcomed by one of the cutest scene his brother ever offered. Jo was holding both his hands, fingers intertwined, leaning on him. They were sharing leisure kisses, both with idiotic, relieved smiles.

Sam smiled too. He was happy for Dean, for them both, really. It reminded him of his debuts with Jess.

He missed her. How simple life had been in her arms. The little things she did that made his days brighter. All the laughing in the kitchen when they discovered they were both as bad at cooking. She only knew how to bake cookies, he knew of salads because that didn't need any actual cooking. They were supposed to take classes together.

They never had the time.

And any little hope he harbored at building some relatively peaceful and stable life with Gabriel had melted away by now.

He sent a playful wink in his (slightly embarrassed) brother's direction, took his laptop and claimed he was heading for the nearest library, borrowing the car's key in the move. They were a thrown shirt away from getting to bed and Sam's need for pain relief supply wouldn't take enough of his time.

So library would do. Or a long ride. He hadn't decided yet.

First: pharmacy. His back was literally killing him.

* * *

Dean was a bit worried about Sam. He didn't like not having had time to check on him before he left.

Guess he'll have to trust Sam to take care of himself. And focus on what Joanna's hands were doing to his belt.

God she was alive!

And needy. And shirtless.

His hands were soon on her waist, his lips tracing hotly the smooth skin where a piece of metal was a mere hour ago. No wound, no scarred tissue, nothing. It was as if nothing had happened. Except in their memories.

Soon he was on his knees before her, his face buried into her stomach. Trembling and kissing. She had her hands threading through his hair, not trying to hold his head or else. Simply there.

_ Dean, you've gotta lay off the hair gel. It always gets my hands squelchy.

Yeah, sure. If it was what she wanted. But right now, what he wanted was to make out. And maybe a bit more if Jo would. She looked like up to.

_ Bed?

_ The drawer will be fine first. Then bed. Then... depends..." She got him out of his shirt while listing her choices. And he was so all for that plan.

The drawer wasn't any more steady than the table. Soon they heard some angry shouts from the other side of the wooden wall. Asking them, in no pleasant terms, to shush the hell up. Jo started to moan even louder in between the bangs of the furniture, and even added some dirty talk when their charming neighbor gave voice again.

Dean wasn't sure if he found that more funny or exciting.

A door slammed nearby. Jo winked mischievously at him before dragging him back into the move. Now that the disturbance was gone, they could focus in enjoying each other. On the drawer, then the bed.

Dean wished they had spent a little more cash and found a place with a bath. Shower sex was a bit complicated.

So they ended up sprawled over the bed's cover, Dean's head near the headboard, Jo's on his stomach, lying perpendicular to him. She was playing with his hand, spend and out of breath.

It was a nice change of setting, being able to spend time cuddling, not always needing to perform. Like the time they broke up in so much giggles when their lovemaking got Jo's TV on staring two otters in their own copulating session, they just couldn't go on.

Great night of sex had ended in some TV late show binging, mocking the stupidity of the world. One of his bestest nights.

_ You think Sam will come back soon?" She was now wandering his hand between her breasts and belly.

_ Not until I tell him the path's clear.

_ So he did go out to give us time? How weird.

_ That's the kind of thing that happens when you grow up with one single room to share between three men. You learn quick not to pay too much attention to some things.

Like stepping away when the other gets lucky, a shower a tad too long, or the shifting of sheets in the middle of the night. They stopped thinking about it long ago, it was just how it was. Especially with two growing teenagers.

They let minutes pass, enjoying their proximity and the warmth. Jo was twining their fingers together now.

_ Sapphire and Emerald.

_ What?

_ I don't like diamonds. They are cold and pretentious. So if you ever think about offering me some jewelry, go for sapphire and emerald.

Where did that come from? He tried to remember what day they were. Around the twentieth of February? They had obviously foregone Valentine.

Was it that? Did he have to make up for it?

_ Dean?

She was looking up to him, from her spot on his abs.

_ I love you.

It made his heart skip a beat, then go back furiously and his mouth go dry. He swallowed a few times, unable to answer, and hating him for it. Because, let's face it: when people say such words, they expect to hear them back. And she will draw back if he didn't man up and say it. He did feel that way too, shouldn't be so hard to goddam say it.

Instead, she smiled at him, and pulled his hand further down her body.

He rolled over her: that he knew how to respond to. She kissed him as deep as his hand was between her tight. Then he stopped thinking and panicking to simply enjoy them being alive.

It was only much later, in the middle of the night, between Sam's snores and Jo's soft breath that Dean realized; she was toying with his fingers when she brought up the jewelry subject. His left hand where he was wearing his mum's ring.

She was saying jewelry not to pressure him.

She was thinking about a ring.

And it both scared and elated him. He loved her. But he was pretty certain he was no husband material.

He was just a high school drop-out, with five bucks and a car to his name. How would he provide for a home, a wife, and everything needed?

He wasn't even sure he could ever come back to this kind of life. And one thing he knew for sure was that he couldn't hunt with Jo by his side. It might look sexist; he knew she was able to fend for herself. But after today, he couldn't be able to see her in harm's way and concentrate on getting the job done.

That's what nearly killed her today. If not for Sam calling out to Lucifer, she would be dead.


	37. Chapter 37 - Je cours

**Je cours - Kyo**

(I run)

* * *

Dean shut the phone and turned to his brother, fresh out of shower, hair still dripping, a towel in hand.

_ How did I teach you Sammy. The right order is to dry your head before you put the shirt on. You catch a cold, don't count on me to make you spiced soup.

Sam smiled warmly at the admonition; he knew Dean would grumble all the way but do it anyway. They both knew.

_ It was Bobby?

Dean nodded and put the phone back in his jacket pocket. Then summarized his conversation with the old man: Bobby had somehow managed to get together a team of Hunters and some of Dean's geeks to raid the labs working for Pestilence. The plan was to go stealth: the Hunters first to make sure there were no creatures / demons in the building and get the civilians out of the way. Then the geeks would find and destroy everything that needed to be, material and data.

_ Good plan." Sam approved. "Do we know the Hunters he picked?

_ Himself and Rufus of course, and a few guys he knows, Garth and Wilkins.

Dean threw the names with a "don't ask I don't know them" pout.

Sam nodded. The main point was the Croat was being dealt with, by people they could trust. So they could focus on getting Gabriel back.

_ You said you had an idea to find Michael? One a bit less desperate than go through the veil, bully our way into Heaven and make a nuisance of ourselves until he comes out?

Sam would have to trade carefully; he didn't exactly want Dean to ask him about his own plans. Dean smirked at his lame attempt at humor. That was the point.

_ Not by far. And it mostly depends on how bad is Cass' mojo. Or if we can get a hold on Balthazar.

Sam made a face.

_ Yeah, highly unlikely." Dean scoffed. He fussed a bit, organizing his thoughts, offered Sam a drink then went to sit down next to him.

Sam was more than happy to wait for his brother to get ready. They would go nowhere anytime soon; resurrection, plus sex-exertion did a number on Jo. It was about eleven and she was still out cold. Dean had been worried at first, but her vitals were good and she did respond when probed. She was simply not waking up yet.

So Dean went to fetch them food and Sam payed for one more night at the motel. Then they decided to step outside to phone and talk, let Jo rest in quiet.

_ It really is barely less reckless than your idea, but... you know Cass got me back in time once. It was supposed to be to prevent mom from making that deal. And I still wonder if it wasn't what triggered the whole thing.

Sam doubted Dean wanted to go back to try and fix that. After all, the point had been that nothing could change the past. He had no idea where his brother was going.

_ Just before dying, Alistair said something. He said dad was supposed to be the one to topple the first domino. They grabbed me because he fled before that.

_ So you think dad was also Michael's original vessel?

_ Not sure. Maybe not 'The One', but probably one suitable enough to hold for a little while at least. It just has to last enough for us to convince Douche n°1.

_ So you want to go back to a time when he was still around and..." Sam was still a bit at loss there.

_ Go back when him and mom were still there and we weren't. So... either we kill them and we were never born to wake up this whole mess...

_ Or Michael will show up to prevent it from happening." Sam finished darkly.

_ It's a win-win. Somehow." Dean concluded gloomily.

It was almost a suicide mission. Sam was ok with it. If it meant Jess would live, Pastor Jim, Caleb, and so many others would live in a world free of demons. Ash and the Roadhouse would still stand. Gabriel wouldn't have been stabbed to death by his brother.

_ It will be worth it." Sam whispered softly. Gabriel would still be lonely and bitter; Lucifer would still be trapped in the cage and might never have a chance of redemption. But, he meant it.

_ It will be worth it." he said again, this time with all the conviction he felt, looking straight at his brother. He knew now why Dean had been stalling: he was feeling bad that he was basically asking his little brother, whom he had made his one job to protect, to die for the cause. More: to accept never being born.

Except for the fact that Sam was already almost as good as dead. Not that he would let Dean know. Or let Dean die.

* * *

_ Sleip' take Father and go!" Fenrir growled darkly, menacing.

The woods were never ending down there; spreading in every direction onto soft slopes. If there were some lakes, or rivers that weren't small streams of water barely good enough to squash the thirst of a family of bears, somewhere; they had yet to cross one.

Gabriel wanted to stay, to fight back. He was barely able to stand. And two Leviathans were closing on them.

_ Dad', we need to get going." Jynx urged him, taking his arm and all but hauling him toward the tall horse waiting nervously for them.

Their little campground was smashed down, the few belongings they had, scattered away in their rush: few of them readying to battle, the others to flee. It had already happened a few times before, and every single one, a little less of the already few of Gabriel's children who sided to help and protect him came back alive from their encounter with the Leviathans.

And Gabriel could only shudder at what it meant to loose against the beasts: eternal suffering, digested forever by the vilest Things out of Universe. Well, not exactly eternal, but so long that even for some hundreds years old beings, it would feel like several lifetimes. He wouldn't wish it for anyone. It was breaking his heart to let his own children risk, and suffer that.

Jynx climbed onto Sleipnir's broad back behind Gabriel just in time to catch him before he slipped down. Their last encounter with a bunch of vampires gunning for Eve, and pissed at the ruckus an Angel's presence brought into the usually peaceful place, had worsen Gabriel's wound. Try to use his grace to fend off the buggers and heal his children in his already poor state truly hadn't been his brightest idea.

Sleipnir took off as deep, angry growls came out Fenrir and Vali's throats. Soon Gabriel could feel his heart get torn hearing the wails and barks of his kids fighting the Leviathans.

The tall horse he had mothered was fast. It didn't take long before they were so far he couldn't hear anything beside the ruffle of leaves and the stomping of his son's hooves against the hard soil.

 _I should have never let Odin take you. You're far too good a mount for a brute like him._

The tall horse was almost literally flying above ground, smooth and swift. Despite Gabriel's state and Jynx's tired arms, he was careful not to jolt his charge. Gabriel leaned forward on his neck, warm, smelling of long lost frosted grassland. Sleipnir chuckled in his head.

 _I do have to admit he was a terrible rider. With all his armor pieces and heavy weaponry, having him on my back was quite painful. But having him on his back was quite pleasant._

Gabriel spluttered in surprise; he sure hadn't seen that coming. His son and Odin? They did keep that pretty shushed. On the other hand, it was understandable; Freya was quite frightening, and possessive.

 _How is he now?_

_ I haven't seen that old geezer in a century. Last time I heard of him, he was good. For a Pagan God with little to none followers by now. They are... desperate and angry. Probably even more so since Luci came back from Hell. They changed, direly.

 _I can sense your sorrow. If it's as bad as you make it sound, I am grateful I found this place before turning like them._

Gabriel had no idea what to answer to that. So he didn't and, instead, started worrying for the two boys they left behind, fighting to death a fight that could have been avoided had he man up, grown up, sooner.

Way sooner.

_ Sam _please_.

Sam had promised. Gabriel just wished he would remember soon.

* * *

They were about four hours away from the campground they fled in a hurry when Sleipnir made a jolting stop. A veiled figure was standing before them, Gabriel's two lupine sons by their side.

The angel could feel his daughter inhale sharply as she murmured the name of the newcomer: Mithra. And indeed it was the God (Goddess? there had always been some uncertainties about that) of Mysteries and Secrets standing before them.

_ I didn't know you were down there too. And surprised that someone got to get a shot at you." Jynx added loudly this time.

_ No one did, I came down there on my own when I found out that you were still alive.

Mithra's ambiguous voice was low and equal. They were softly petting the two, surprisingly compliant, wolves' enormous heads. Jynx had been the one to talk first, but the enigmatic God(ess?) was addressing directly to Gabriel.

_ How?" Gabriel wasn't entirely sure 'how what', there were so many: how did they know about Gabriel being murdered? How did they know it didn't take? How did a Pagan who hardly mitigated with its peers felt concerned enough to kill themselves to access _him_?

So he kept it at this and let Mithra choose which one they would answer.

_ Earth itself wept at your demise Archangel Gabriel. I had to see this for myself. So I followed the lead. When I came to that cave, there was only one straggler still there. They flew off as soon as they saw me. It took me more time than I care to admit before I finally made out its pattern, catch the little brat and squeeze its secrets out of it." The slightest hint of annoyance colored its voice there. "Cheeky blond. Apparently you know them.

_ Wild guess: Balthazar?" Gabriel falsely mused, his brain turning wild to find the last 'how's answer.

_ I did not come to seek revenge on you, but to help." The Pagan eventually took their hands out of its two guardian's rough fur and their veils off, layer after layer, unwrapping layers of deflection and deception at the same time. Until they fell on the dirt.

This time it was Gabriel who gasped.

_ Ende...

_ Hello Mother. It's been a while.

* * *

It was somewhere around noon. But noon in February in the middle North wasn't very warm. And they had been outside for a while now.

Sam was coming back with two Styrofoam cup of hot coffee when Dean flipped his phone shut. Castiel said he would arrive as soon as he got grab of Meg. She was doing the flying. It was a bit slower than angel's transportation but would help him save him strength.

Well... slower... like the difference between a one second flight and a two second flight.

_ Hello Dean." Castiel said, despite having had Dean on the phone seconds ago.

_ Re-hello Cass. You're blond now Meg?" Dean deadpanned, the sarcasm flying high above the angel's vessel's head.

_ You like it?" The demon female preened a bit.

_ Cass. Meg. So nice of you to swing by." Sam stepped in, since no one greeted him.

Meg made a flirty comment, Castiel tiled his head. Clueless as ever. Sam refrained to shake his head only because he related to the angel being so bent in keeping Dean as safe as possible.

Dean did give him a sharp look; Sam shrugged and urged his brother to move forward. So he did, explaining their, _his_ , suicidal idea to his guardian angel. Sam barely paid attention to it, he already knew the plan, the angel's reservations about it (they were the same as his after all) and that he would eventually give in regardless.

Castiel was attuned to Dean's emotions and needs. He would cave in everything Dean would pull, not matter his thoughts on the matter. Not that he wouldn't try to bend his bossy brother's will, nor voice his concerns. Eventually, Castiel would always cave in.

That's what a guardian angel was. And the reason why there were so few: if their human was being unreasonable, there was not much to stop them. Especially when they had Winchester's stubbornness.

_ I can't assure you how far I will be able to bring us. If we end up after the 2nd of November 1983, it will be a 'wet shot' as I believe you put it.

Dean smiled, then pat Cass' shoulder, almost there.

* * *

Wasn't too inspired last week.

Got more this one.

Enjoy.


	38. Chapter 38 - La Machine à Rattraper le T

**La Machine à Rattraper le Temps - Indochine**

(The Time Catching Machine)

* * *

Since Meg had been there, they decided she would take Jo and Baby back to Bobby's. They didn't know how, when or if they would come back. So Dean, extremely reluctantly, gave his Baby's keys to the she-demon; not before Sam asked him whether he'd rather let Meg drive his car to a safe place or let it on a dingy Motel parking lot for God knows how long.

Put like that, the answer was quite easy.

He carried Jo to the backseat of the car himself while Sam and Cass would pack-up their things. Well, Sam would pack-up and Cass stash it all in the trunk. Then they had to look away as Meg gave her angel a searing kiss as good bye. They waited until the car's tail disappeared before they go too.

A gut wrenching handful of seconds later, they were somewhere else back in the past. And Castiel fainted into Sam's arms right away.

Dean took a look around them, letting his brother haul the angels limp body. Actually, their surroundings hadn't changed much; the Motel was still the same, albeit newer and most certainly cleaner. The cars in the parking lot were more like to his taste. It was snowy and the street was decorated with Christmas stuff.

_ So, any idea of when we are?" Sam asked once Castiel was safely tucked in bed.

_ Around December, whatever the year." Dean walked to the old TV and turned it on, they must be able to find a news channel with the date on. "How's Cass?

_ Fried. Alive. That's about all I can tell. I'm not expert in angel health care.

_ Figures..." Dean huffed. Given the archaic ads, weird hair and cheap SFX he was seeing, they must be in about the right time frame.

He seated himself at the foot of Castiel's bed. Sam went to the other, nervously smoothing his jeans, his hands looking for something to do. Dean was still flipping through the channels when a movie made him stop.

_ Crap...

_ What?" Sam sounded startled, as if his mind had already wandered far away.

_ That's 'Back To The Future'.

_ And?

Dean rolled his eyes, annoyed at his brother's oblivion.

_ It's a 1980's film. Sammy : I'm already born.

Dean could have throttled his brother; he shouldn't look so unbothered by that. They were straddled in a past that wasn't far enough with a ride utterly toasted. They had lost. And Sam dared to look not even unbothered but almost relieved.

_ I think we should take a ride and go to Lawrence, we'll see when we get there. But what do we do with Cass? I'm not even sure it would be safe to move him. It certainly wouldn't to let him alone.

Dean looked behind him. The angel's dark hair was barely poking from under the covers, his trench coat hanging from the head board. How did Sam took the time to undress him...

_ We're not in a hurry of anything anyway, maybe we can take a day and see if Cass will wake up...

Sam trailed under Dean's stare.

_ And how, pray tell, do you suggest we pay for the room or food?" He couldn't help but bite back.

Without answering, Sam drew up his banknotes clip and started to sort through his money.

_ I've got twenty bucks emitted before the 80's. Recon it would be interesting hustling pool in the 80's.

Dean made a vague gesture, right know, he was just too devastated by their busted suicide mission to care right now. They should have come to a time none of them would be born. Especially not him. Now, their plan to threaten their existence to get Michael to use Dad as a vessel so they could talk to him was greatly compromised.

Dean had been the one to break the first seal, him more than anyone should not live. And given Sam reaction, he will try to keep baby Dean safe. And that was not acceptable by his book. Even if it was even more disturbing to imagine killing a mini-me than to pretend-kill his parents to get a douche angel to show up.

Dean took a deep breath and a hand to his face.

The TV was still on; the news had started on the channel they finally let on. It was the 20th of December 1982. So Dean was already born, and mom was pregnant with Sammy. At least Azazel hasn't yet messed up with his baby brother's soul.

They had no other option than wipe out the Winchesters. And hope it was too early to prevent Michael from simply resurrecting Dean.

Then it hit him. This was a suicide mission. They would never come back. He would never see Jo again. She wasn't even born yet. They will never be lovers. She wouldn't miss him; she wouldn't know he ever existed, in some alternate future where they were happy together, despite everything else.

Sam was still there, silent and unmoving, his stare fixed on the moving pictures on the telly. Dean would never see Jo again. But, maybe Sam could get a second chance. Or... get a chance to say good bye at least. Even if the Gabriel from the 80's was different from the one they lost.

So, Dean prayed.

* * *

Loki, in a voluptuous brunette outfit with a long, vaporous floral dress, was busy getting a murderer who managed to escape human justice nuts by appearing around, looking like his victim. She would drag him to the ground, turn him into some sniveling mess before maybe have the mercy to let him die. Maybe.

She was waiting for her victim to come out of the bar he was currently hooking up with some blonde, seated in the backseat of his car. He even had the gall to keep the vehicle he murdered his victim in. The bastard.

She could see her target about to go out when it started. It was like something deep inside her had started to howler in agony, loss and sorrow. There was no reason for it. It came from within, but she was certain it wasn't from her.

She tried to ignore it, focus on her task at hand. To no avail. It was too spooky.

No surprise was a good surprise when you were on the run. And a feeling so old it had become foreign started to blossom into her guts: dread. It worsened when she started to feel a prayer addressed to her.

Not just her as Loki, but also as the Trickster, and every one of her other aliases.

Dread became blood curling terror and anger upon hearing the last prayer she was getting from the same soul. Addressed to the Archangel Gabriel.

 _Gabriel, Loki, Trickster, whoever you're going by in the 80's, we need you. Really need you. We got a fried bros' of yours who could use some expert to make sure he'll get through._

Followed by a few flashes of a location, a Motel, both old and recent, in a city haunted by technologies that didn't exist. It was getting weirder and weirder. And she really didn't want to get involved in anything bizarre she didn't come up with in the first place.

It wouldn't stop though. If anything, the screams were getting louder and more desperate by the minute. And the soul praying for all of her may not be the reason for that traumatized howler inside her; she wasn't naive enough to think the two weirds weren't connected.

First things first, she got out of the car to get a nice seat by a shore, and pondered her options. She could go there and see whoever dared not only know who she was but to call. It was very likely a trap. She could send someone to check onto the Motel, evaluate the threat.

She also could wait until the praying soul get bored, but it was unlikely that the other weirdness would go away that easily.

Moreover, it was nerve fraying, and she wouldn't stand it for too long.

Well... all in all, there was really one option really standing, even if she didn't like it.

She took off, direction a townhole in the Northern States.

When she arrived, a few miles away from the exact location, she was so focused on trying to find out the angels she was sure to be waiting for her, she didn't realize right away.

The silence was almost deafening for a few minutes, until the formerly wailing thing inside her head started to purr in contentment. It was no less disconcerting, but her nerves were grateful.

There was next to no trace of angelic power in the city. Just a very faint glow coming from her destination. That was to be expected given the specifications of the prayer.

She made a short flight to the Motel's parking lot. The prayers has stopped by now. She wasn't sure if it was a direct consequence of her arrival like the warm and fuzzy purring, or if one triggered the other.

Carefully, she peered into the room where the grace was. One angel, in a vessel, so badly out of shape she didn't recognized from which angel it was. Two humans. Both had souls tainted by Hell. One of them clearly had been there and somehow came back. It probably had to do with the angel being his guardian. The other, was half demoniac. It was disgusting, like putrid flesh. It made her want to throw up, especially when she realized the purring came from him.

She scooted closer; her sibling's mind was shut down, he couldn't sense her. But there was no knowing how deep the Hell taint on the humans' souls ran. What they could do, and how the fuck did they learn about her?

A peek at the window. The humans and her sibling's vessel were all male, and tall.

_ Castiel..." she whispered.

It couldn't be! Her mind reeled. If the angel was Cassie, the two humans would be unmistakably her Big brothers vessels: Samuel and Dean Winchester. Except that it wasn't time.

Then she snorted to herself. Of course, that made sense: Castiel's grace fried, the weird double visions of the Motel and its surrounding. The pair of menace had come back in time. And they were speaking: the tallest, the one invading her mind, sounded a bit angry.

_ You should have never done that Dean. You know how he is. You'll only spook him. And I so do not want to be at the wrong end of a chain sewer, again. He's not the same Dean... He's not... him; not yet.

No, scratch that, he sounded sad. Incredibly, hopelessly sad. His long arms flaying around as he was pacing agitatedly around the room. The guy somehow handled himself like he didn't know what to do with his super-sized body. She liked the hair though.

_ Someone need to get a look at Cass. And... I don't know, maybe send him back in our time.

_Send him back to what Dean? A world where... You know how bad it would be if we not only can't pull that one out but also wouldn't be there to clean up the mess.

The bulk blond, Dean apparently, shrugged, dejected. This one was seated at the foot of the bed Castiel was occupying. His black tee-shirt was taut over his shoulders. Pretty handsome, when you liked pouty ken-dolls.

_ He's not coming anyway.

Samuel raised his eyebrows and opened his hands in a gesture Loki wasn't sure she could translate.

_ Dude, he's already there. At least not far.

Loki froze. A cold shiver went down her spine.

Dean blinked in surprise, looking up to his brother. Then uselessly swept his gaze around. As if she was suddenly standing in the middle of them.

_ What, your Gabe radar kicked in?

 _Gabe radar_? She wasn't sure which word creeped her out the most. That guy was a danger, a terrible threat. Before she knew it, she had her sword in hand, ready to strike.

_ Looks like it." Samuel Winchester answered softly. It was uncanny how the abomination managed to look like a lost puppy that had been kicked too many times.

And apparently it was more than enough to fool his brother; since the man got up to pat his shoulder.

_ It's ok Sammy we'll !

Whatever reassurance he had been trying to say had been cut off by one ginormous hand. In a blink of an eye, Samuel's expression had shifted into some hard wild stare.

_ Dude! I just said he's here! So he _hears_. Don't... Just, mind what you say. Given what he is, what he knows gets unmovable. We don't want that.

_ And the fact that you know this much about him? It's not gonna... I don't know...

_ There could have been many way for me to learn about archangels." The younger retorted. Well, she wasn't dumb thank-you. It implied he got this from her somehow. Or... him. Apparently they would meet her in a male suit.

Didn't matter. If they knew her, or him, they should know better than to try come back in time to clean whatever mess they were in!

She put on her shorter mini skirt and unbuttoned the top of her shirt. The blond guy looked like the kind to lose the little brain they had through the ears at the mere sight of breasts.

...

That didn't sound like Michael. Maybe his supposed perfect vessel wasn't that much like him.

Popping a huge pizza, she went to knock at the door.


	39. Chapter 39 - Flamme

**Flamme - Slai**

(Flame)

* * *

Popping a huge pizza, she went to knock at the door.

Her hand ended onto a solid chest as the younger Winchester opened even before she had time to actually knock. She took her hand back, plastered a shit-eating grin on her face and looked up. And up. Until she met a pair of unimpressed eyes. They were odd, some camaïeu of colors: green, hazel, blue and sparks of gold.

_Hi! Room service?" She asked cockily blowing some bubblegum in between the sentences.

It was like seeing double, on the outside, the young Winchester's face flashed and amused smirk. On the inside there was nothing but stone coldness; he wasn't projecting anything. That made a shiver run her spine, she had met such nihil in two kinds of people: psychopaths and psychics. She had no idea which kind that guy was.

_ You can cut the crap, we know who you are." He answered in a tone that sounded bored, or sarcastic, or playful. She couldn't tell. Honestly, when you felt people emotions flowing out of them by waves all the time, you didn't bother much trying to learn outside tells. Why learn Braille when you're not blind?

He sidestepped to let her in and added:

_ If there's really a pizza in that cardboard box, we could do with it. Smells good.

She arched an eyebrow; does she look like a delivery gal? Ermm... Actually yes, but that wasn't the point. She got past him and stifled a breath of relief: at least, the elder one was normal, flooding the place with anxiety, skittishness and a sudden burst of relief upon seeing her step in. That one would not stay too long.

She dropped the pizza box on the table and made a line to her sibling, she will bite those morons' heads off latter. Right now, she could only mourn once beautiful wings. The poor baby did quite a number on himself; his usually well-groomed feathers were frayed and tattered. Their soft shine long gone.

_ Poor child. What did you do to yourself..." She caressed his feathers, whispering sweet nonsense as she let her finger straighten some, sooth others.

_ Will... he recover?

It was Dean, sitting on the other side of the bed; his eyes pools of guilt.

_ Even if he were reconnected to Heaven, it wouldn't change much. He will heal. Eventually. In a century or two.

Dean sighed sadly.

_ It's my fault.

_ Yes and no." She admitted more quietly than she wanted too. The concern and sorrow he felt made difficult for her to stay mad. She flicked a peek toward the other brother; he was standing between the door and the window, looking at them, expressionless, his hand at the ready near the gun tucked in his belt. It took her too long, and him tensing at some footsteps passing by, to figure he was standing guard against whatever could come from outside and not against her.

_ It's his fault he chose you. He always does." She added. There really was no future she could see where Castiel wouldn't chose Dean over anything and everything, again and again.

She kept soothing what she could from Castiel's wings. Dean stayed silent on the other side of the bed; uncertain about what he could do and growing more jittery as time passed in silence.

When Samuel felt secure enough, or when he felt his brother about to snap; he moved on, cut a chunk of the cardboard as makeshift plate and put a slice of pizza on it. He brought the food with a glass of water to Dean who took them absentmindedly.

_ Sam... We need to get going, not playing tea party." He finally uttered when said Sam started to brew a pot of coffee.

_ It's coffee Dean, I wouldn't dream of brewing you tea." Loki breathed in relief at the clear amusement filtering through the younger's voice and heart. So more like psychic than utter psycho. Good to know.

_Besides," he went on, "We are on no clock, it's 1982. Eat, rest, we'll hitch a car early in the morning. Yesterday was a rough one, and tomorrow will be worse.

Dean sighed, rubbed his shin, Loki could feel the despair sweeping through.

_ Yeah... you may be right. I just want it to be over, soon. No need to stall.

Somehow, it iced her insides. Loki jumped to her feet, towering over the bed, leaning toward the miserable man, anger back with a vengeance.

_ What are you planning to do? Why the Hell did you come here? How badly could I have let you screw up!

_ You didn't let us screw up anything." The younger Winchester answered dispassionately. "But we... lost you, and we are out of time. We are trying to get someone's attention and get through them. It's not something we can do from our time. At least, not within the clock. We don't plan on staying here, or mess up with 'now', nor try to change what is bound to happen in eleven months. We know it's moot point.

She looked from the speaker to the brother she could read, and there was some spike of guilt there.

_ We know because I tried. Well... Cass brought me ten years ago, not that I asked for it. It... didn't end up well." He explained sheepishly.

She nodded, that she saw. She had also a feeling that in some other version of the story, the two of them came back to the days where Mary was pregnant with the elder to save her from Anael. And then...

_ Gab, whatever you're thinking about, don't. We can't let you know, or even suspect anything. It would be a disaster.

There was softness coloring Samuel this time, and a bit of a plea; for her to understand and not understand too much at the same time. A flicker of hope lightened her grace. She understood. She did.

_ How much do you know me?" She couldn't help but ask.

_ Twenty eight." He answered simply, softly. Her breath caught. Because she knew what he what saying and he knew he didn't need to elaborate. From the corner of her eyes she saw Dean throw a questioning look to his brother, who didn't acknowledge him.

Two images flickered in her mind, too swift for her to catch the context, but enough to see the subject without a doubt: her. The first one was her, redhead, in a truck, sitting over Sam's lap and discussing the punishment she had in store for a misbehaving guy. The other was also her, in all her archangelic glory. They were both laced with so many feelings it made her dizzy: amazement, worship, amusement, tenderness, and utter love; for both her sides.

The mere fact that this boy could so utterly hide this many emotions was mind boggling. And from the slight smirk he sported right now, Sam knew what she was thinking.

_ You said you lost me..." She trailed saddened.

_ You didn't die, if it's what you're worried about. But I do miss you.

She lowered her gaze. It was... weird, having someone you've never met harboring so much love for her, knowing her so deeply.

Watching Cassie, she realized idly he had a great looking vessel. She wondered if he was as awkward as she remembered him. From a very long time ago. Loki felt a warm hand on her shoulder; long legs folding near her to lower soft hazel-green-blue eyes to her level.

_ It might not look like that to you, because we are a bit in a tie there, the clock is ticking and we don't have much to pull more convoluted plan. But we know what we are doing, I promise. We'll get through, and get you back. No matter what Gab', I'll always get back to you.

He sighed, letting fragile, hurt, emotions filter through his barriers. He really had soft features. Or not, he had sharp features, his expression made them soft.

_ What are you Sam Winchester?

He let a smirk play on his thin lips. A smirk very much like the one she had mastered through the years.

_Where's the fun in telling you right away?

Infuriating.

When he first appeared, Dean had wondered whether it really had been a good idea to call Gabe. He looked furious, and ready to smite them both. Even more so when the angel realized in what poor state his brother was because of them.

Then Sam had worked his magic on his future lover. And the archangel's wrath had ebbed to mere annoyance and curiosity. They ate the pizza, since it was there, and decided to take an early nap. They would take off around three or four in the morning; when there would be the least people awake.

Gabriel stayed at Cass' side, so they bunked into the other bed, easily settling around each other under the Trickster's baffled stare. Dean wasn't sure how long it took Sam to fall asleep; mostly because he went deep under as soon his head settled on his brother's shoulder, a hand over his heart. If it was their last trip, he could as well indulge himself the comfort of lying in a warm embrace.

In the wee hours of the morning, Castiel still had to wake up. Dean was still worried. And Sam wasn't getting much better. In fact he looked even more tired now than the previous day. Big brother Dean was worried the time lapse between Sam and his lover wasn't draining him even more easily. The presence of the actual Gabriel didn't seem to do much.

Not about Sam's overall weariness. 'Cause the spark in his eyes spoke another story altogether.

_ You need to get going." It was, surprisingly Gabriel who spoke up first. "I'll stay and keep an eye on Cassie.

He must have caught something in Sammy's attitude because he added just after a promise he wouldn't try to pry, with and exaggerated eye roll.

Dean offered to go get a car, he would go a few streets away, give some alone time for Sam and Gabe.

Loki could see the young man's forlorn look when his brother went away, his uneasiness to be alone with her. She couldn't help finding it surprising. He was the one whose soul was purring continuously against her grace after all.

She probably shouldn't have, but she hasn't been able to help taking a closer look at those two. Dean was exactly what he looked like: a wary soul back from hell, grasping at straws and with a resilience tattooed 'Sam' all over.

Up close, the younger one's soul was still reeking of demonic stain, but its spread wasn't as pronounced as she believed at first. Sam was kindness at core with a huge side of self-shame. His soul should be much brighter than that, it was dimed for a reason she hadn't tried to sort out.

She did have suspicions, and she wouldn't dare try to confirm them. What she did do was heal the very nasty injuries Sam must have sustained recently: his kidneys were busted and about to get septic. That Cass hadn't caught on that or tried to heal it spoke volumes on his diminished state, even before their time trip.

_ Your brother doesn't think you will make it back." She tried to break an uncomfortable silence, conjuring a lemon flavored lollypop to occupy her hands.

_ Dean is being a bit desperate right now. We lost people, almost lost others, had been given hopes and lost them too. He will come around, eventually.

Well... that was a bit heavy.

_ You think you can do it, whatever that it is?

Sam hooked his gaze into hers.

_ I'm not gonna give up. Not on this, not on finding a real solution to the Apocalypse, and not on getting you back.

He suddenly looked overwhelmingly serious, she swallowed.

_ You won't feel like it at first, most certainly dub us as pigheaded morons." He sighed, probably reminded of some occurrence. "More than once. Just, please... don't give up on us. We'll come around. Please.

Father those puppy eyes were really uncanny.

_ That should be counted as a cheat." She half mumbled to herself, eliciting a sheepish grin and a soulful look from the Labrapuppy-Moose-man. The dimpled smile should definitely be added to that list.

That was when Dean came back with a ride. She sighted, she would have liked to get through Sam Winchester's enigma for a little longer. He was in some sort of blue, mean looking muscle car.

_ Dude is that...

The big brother grinned widely.

_ Yup. That's what the Pontiac you're trying to build back is supposed to look like.

_ Not blue." Sam deadpanned.

_ Come on Samantha, it'll match your eyes.

_ My eyes aren't blue.

_ A little." Gabriel couldn't help but pip in. She got an incredulous stare in answer. "On the outsides, that's unusual and quite prett... What?

He had that _look_...

_ I love you.

It was barely over a whisper, heartbroken. Somehow, somewhere between the cracks in his voice, the despair in his look and the tremors in his hands on her face, she just knew he never said it before, not to her. Or any version of her.

_ I...

Whatever she might have wanted to say was snuffed out by Sam's lips on hers. Hot and hungry. His hands softly framing her whole face. His formerly closed mind hitting at her with waves of emotions. The glimpse she had the previous day was tame considering.

Swoon, she let him roam her mouth, put her arms around his neck, taking into his male scent. And things just got wilder as one of his arms came to cup her head, the other plastering her slim frame against him. It was like riding a storm.

Man, that guy not only knew her, he _knew_ her, biblically. The way his hands kept on rubbing the right spot, the right way, clutching at her shirt right where her wings were. A cheap substitute for the real ruffling duvet feathers thing, but the intend was clearly there.

The kiss was perfect, in depth, in rhythm,... Sam Winchester knew exactly how she liked it.

And Father it shouldn't, but it felt good. Third item onto the cheat list, though.

No, good wasn't even the start of it. There was no word for how it felt. Cathartic maybe.

Her mind was swirling with the raw deep emotions he was broadcasting: passion, lust, and all encompassing tenderness. The whole lot astonishingly topped by a fierce protectiveness. It was both sweet and ludicrous; knowing _what she was_ and wanting to protect her.

And then it ended. Sam pulled back, physically and mentally, taking away her heart in the move. Leaving her female, high on hormones, body shivering with want and her mind feel even emptier than ever; looking as he was walking away.

Simple as that.

Like in a freaking romantic badass movie. And she would call on him, like some desperate ditched girl.

_ When? Just, tell me, when?

_ We are hunters and you are a Trickster, we are bound to stumble on your deeds someday.

She huffed this time. Ain't he the infuriating type.

_ I know, I get that feel too." Dean had one hip leaning on the car's hood. "Crawford Hall College. That's where we'll find you.

_ Dean!" Sam interjected, a bit bitchy too. Should be fun to be around in fact.

Dean shrugged at that, not that it was that big of a clue.

_ On the other hand, you're a pretty damn good shifter too." He added with a wink. "I'm sure Stanford geek right here knows that better than me.

Sam just rolled his eyes, took Gabriel in his arms, landed a kiss on the top of her head and hauled his brother away before he spilled anymore beans.

Some quick farewell later, she was staring at the end trail of a departing car. Alone standing at the threshold of a low grad Motel room. With her brother out cold in here. Poster girl for a Tuesday 3p.m. TV movie. The badly written ones.

She sighted, then went back to babysit, searching for some kind of warmth bunking with Cassie's vessel, some purpose in soothing its tattered wings.

* * *

Love me some mushy fluff sometimes.

Doesn't mean I'm good at it...

Hope you people still enjoy.


	40. Chapter 40 - Mon Frère

**Mon Frère - Maxime Leforestier**

(My brother)

* * *

It took them too many, and too few hours to come back to Lawrence Kansas.

Too many when you look at Sam's worn out face. Too little when facing the prospect of having to kill your entire family, including yourself and the unborn baby brother you've raised.

Now they were parked in front of a painfully familiar house, mowed lawn, nice curtains at the lightened windows, ...

_ You had a blue tricycle with ribbons?

Sam had that sly singsong tone he used on one occasion only : the 'I caught my bad-ass big brother being cute' occasion.

_ Shut up Sammy.

... a blue tricycle, that particular tree that has haunted Sam's visions a few years back, and no Impala.

_ Dad's not there? At 7p.m.?

Dean shrugged, falsely nonchalant, trying not to remember all the times mom' would get a phone call from the garage and hang up a little sadder every time.

_ He does overtime. That happens. Christmas and a new baby to accommodate aren't cheap.

So that's not pure vengeance that got John down under, guilt too; Sam thought but did not dare voice. Dean's tells were not mystery to him, especially the one when he was trying to defend dad, even, _especially_ , when there was no ground to defend.

_ So what do we do? We wait for him to come back in the car or in the house?

Dean really didn't want to get in before the the show really started, but it was the end of December; they would freeze over before dad would come back.

_ Let's see if mom remembers our last meeting.

With that, they went out of the car and headed to the front door. The simple, homemade, Noel garland made his heart ache. Now that he was seeing it, he remembered making it with mom, dad had brought him pick-up small pine cones in the wood for decor. That was when she told him he would be a big brother a few months from there.

Dean squared his shoulders and rang. He could feel Sam hoovering in the shadows behind him. Then it occurred to him that it would be the first time for his brother, the first he would ever remember.

He was prepared to face mom, he would have been OK with dad. He had to take a step backward, to the shadows, when facing his not even four year old self, eyes dimming as he realized this wasn't his daddy at the door.

_ Da... err... Who are you?

Odd that Sam, who was usually uncomfortable around kids, was the one to step up this time.

_ Hi, kiddo. I bet you're Dean.

The little (God he had actually been this small!) blond boy nodded shyly, taking into the crouched tall man and his puppy eyes.

_ I'm Harry Campbell, and this is Rob." He reverted to his favorite aliases. "We're cousins of your mom. Came by to say hi for the End of Year. Is Mary home?

Little Dean didn't have time to answer, Mary's voice came from inside the room alongside hurried steps.

_ Dean! I told you, never to open when we are not expecting visitors.

_ But mom..." The kid's complain got cut short by Sam's big hand on his tiny shoulder.

_ Your mom's right sweetheart. Besides, your daddy wouldn't need to ring, would he?" The kid nodded, reluctantly. "And imagine being mobbed by scout girls all wanting to sell their cookies. What will you do?

_ I like cookies. With pecans." Baby Dean had sparks in his eyes now, even with his mom's tight grip on his shoulder.

_ Hi Mo.. Mary. Rob Campbell. It was what... ten years, give or take?" Dean started sheepish, still not sure if she remembered him, or how she would react even if she did.

She looked at him with utter disbelief. Meant she remembered. Then took him in her arms like she feared he was going to disappear on her in the second. He could still feel Sam stand up next to him.

_ You barely aged." She noticed once she released him enough to look closer.

_ Yeah... Not that long for me. Mo Mary; I'd like to introduce my baby brother : Harry.

Sam, who had looked so much at ease with a mini version of Dean was now fidgeting, between amazed and uncomfortable.

_ You're beautiful." He whispered awed, before shaking himself and her hand. She took him in her arms. And... Dean had to avert his eyes, so wistful his baby brother's expression was right now. His embrace fierce.

Dean looked down to meet his own quizzical gaze. The kid looked so innocent. How could he... He darted a lost look to Sam, who caught it. Had put a hand on the small of Dean's back, preventing him from running away.

Mary was re-entering the house, her baby boy in tow, and urging them to follow.

Dean felt Sam's breath close to his ear as he lent toward him.

_ When dad comes back and shit hit the fan, you restrain him. I'll take care of everything. You just make sure dad can't intervene.

Then he was inside the house, an harmless fake smile plastered to his face, covertly drinking into his baby big brother and mother's sigh, a glass of mulled vine in hand. Dean took a deep, steadying, breath and followed, closing the door to the cold winter night.

 _Honey I'm home._

Soon Dean was back into a painfully familiar living room, sitting in one of the two armchairs close to mom's own. Sam was in the sofa, a very curious little Dean shooting him question after question, barely letting him time to answer. He looked happy, almost giddy to be able to speak with a non emotionally crippled version of his big brother. A non emotionally crippled version who was well on his way to climb his lap.

_ Your brother is good with kids." Mary half whispered to him.

_ Not usually, but guess he knows me enough to feel comfortable.

He could feel in her eyes she wanted to ask more, more certainly questions he wouldn't want to answer. So he diverted the conversation, asking questions himself, reminiscing.

_ I ate! Meat loaf. And plum pie.

It was Dean's mini me, answering indignantly at whatever Sam said. Dean felt more than saw Sam's quick glance : not very healthy. So what?

_ Good choice, mom's meat loafs are the best.

He halted at her slight pinch of lips, her hand comfortingly on his knee.

_ Sweetheart, I don't cook much. The meat loaf comes from the supermarket.

Dean must have looked as crestfallen as he felt, 'cause he heard Sam chuckle lightly.

_ My whole life is a lie." He uttered, dejected. Causing his mother to look back and forth between her two grown up boys, at loss.

_ Dean's a good cook. He makes some mean fried rice with about anything. And has a few dozens recipes of mac and cheese. I'm pretty sure he was about to ask you the meat loaf recipe." Sam provided helpfully; then resumed his cooing at his baby big brother, letting Mary comfort her big boy. Distract him with other shared memories.

Next time Dean really paid attention to Sam's discussion with the kid; they were comparing the merits of the two bestest superheros : Superman and Batman.

_ Superman is better, he has laser eyes!

_ Maybe, but what merit at being a hero if you're born with superpower? Batman is just a normal guy, like you and me, and he worked very hard to get strong and protect people. He doesn't have superpower, but he fights anyway, against enemies much stronger.

Dean almost interrupted, as if a lengthy lecture would get through a toddler. Sam full nerd mode more often than not got way over adult Dean, so to a baby boy Dean. He didn't, though. For a reason, the kid seemed to drink Sam's words.

_ But you know who is even greater than Batman?" Sam added in a conspiracy tone. Baby Dean shook his head. "My big brother. He's a real bad-ass; super strong, super smart even if he loves to pretend he's dumb, get all the girls, and has one mean car. Almost a cool as your dad's car.

The last part was hastily added as the little boy, now completely on his lap, scrunched his face, about to argue about that point.

_ I'm gonna be a big brother too!" He chirped, pacified by the reassurance that his daddy's car was still the best.

_ And I'm sure you're gonna be a great big brother, almost as cool as mine. Maybe as cool as Batman?

From the corner of his eyes, Dean could see his mom look at him, but he couldn't tear his own gaze away from Sammy. That little bitch was making good use of that time mess to say things Dean would never allow him to otherwise. And the tender, careful way he was currently holding Dee's miniature body in his giant paws. No wonder the boy was swooned by now, hit by the full brunt of Sam's concentrated focus and care, dimpled smile and all.

He was almost jealous so see his Sammy give the little boy those faces made only for him.

_ I want to be as strong as batman to protect the baby girl!" Dee was bouncing.

_ You think it's a girl? It does make some sense." Sam threw a teasing glance toward Dean.

_ Can't know, but I want a baby sister, so she wouldn't steal my toys. Tommy has a baby brother, he breaks aaalll his toys." The kid emphasized his talk by spreading his arms wide.

_ Maybe Tommy's parents were wrong to ask him to share his toys then.

That seemed to give baby Dean something to think about.

_ OK. I'm OK with a baby brother, if I keep my toys.

Sam gave him a dimpled, somehow sad smile and ruffled his long, beautiful curls. He knew how much more than a few toys Dean would have to sacrifice for him.

_ I think you can negotiate that with your mom. And you could... maybe choose some of his future toys, or plushies.

Dean rolled his eyes, trust the bitch to remember those little things.

_ So... you think it's a boy?

_ I know it is.

_ And he..." Baby Dean leaned forward to whisper something in Sam's ear.

_ Of course he will Dean. That's what baby brothers do : follow you around all the time, look up to you, generally be a pain in your ass, and love you more than the whole world.

Man, Dean was amazed Sam managed to spout all of that heavy sap' without a hint of blush or hesitation. The bitch way laying thick there.

_ Sweetheart, you're blushing." Mary whispered next to him, taking his hand between hers. Of course he was! Who wouldn't? Especially knowing Sam had meant it quite literally.

_ What it means 'a pain in the ass'?

_ It means he will annoy you often, get in your way, borrow the things you want to keep for yourself, and not always give them back. He'll make mistakes, you'll get pissed at him. But none of it would matter, because in the end : he'll always be your brother. And everything he'll do; it will be for you.

It let the kid thoughtful for a while. Then he patted Sam's cheeks with both chubby hands, expression more serious than expected from a nearly four year old.

_ If I'm Batman. Are you Robin?

Sam chuckled, showing his dimples.

_ More like Catman.

_ It's Catwoman.

_ But I'm no woman.

Dean nodded.

_ Why not Robin? I'm allergic to cats." He _not_ whined.

_ Cause I'm unreliable and have seven lives.

_ Cat have nine lives!" Dean corrected, arms crossed. Sam praised him knowledge, making the child blush a bit.

_ Yeah... I already used some. So I'm down to seven now." That was faulty reasoning at best, but to a child, mostly anything said with enough conviction made sense.

Dean yawned, rubbed sleepy eyes and leaned a little further against Sam's chest. Completely at ease with a man he met barely an hour ago.

_ Time to go to sleep buddy." Sam whispered as he brushed tenderly the kids locks.

_ Don't wanna. Dad not there yet.

_ You're already half asleep love. Time to go to bed.

_ But daddy..." Dean smirked; apparently, Sam was discovering sleepy kids tended to be cranky kids.

_ Listen, let's make a deal : I bring you up, we read a story, and you make a nice nap until daddy comes back. We'll tell him to come hug you good night as soon as he gets home. OK?

_ That's my line." Dean grumbled, not very convincingly trying to hide he was pleased that Sam remembered. Baby Dean was small bundle in Sammy's arms when he stood up, gently asking his half asleep charge the directions toward his room.

Passing by behind Dean, Sam let a hand rest on his big brother's shoulder, his thumb and knuckles quickly easing some tensions in his neck then headed toward the stairs.

_ He means it?" Asked Mary when his tall frame disappeared upstairs.

_ Every single word. Even if he usually know better than to say it in this many words." He mumbled, embarrassed, his hand half hiding his face.

She let her eyes wander between her son and the place where her baby was a minute ago; troubled.

_ Sweety, you and your brother..." She clearly didn't know how to phrase her question. Dean heaved a not whiny moan.

_ Mom... please... not you too.

_ What?" She looked away.

_ Sam and I, we had our fair share of that look. But at least, they didn't know we are related.

_ You do look a bit... close.

_ Baby is quite large for a car, but as a home... How we grew up, personal space was not really an option." He tried to explain. Why did he always had to explain? Why did they all though it was their business?

She leaned over him, again apologizing to him. Then she got up, busied herself with refilling their drinks, make some toasts, defuse the heaviness that had settled between them.

_ So... you call her Baby?

_ Yup." Dean answered proudly, around a toast. "She's mine now, dad gave her to me when I hit eighteen. I even was the one to convince dad to buy her instead of that crappy van. Last time I got around.

_ I'm sure you take good care of her.

_ She's all I've got beside Sammy.

She frowned, puzzlement over her face. He didn't understand until he realized that Sam had introduced them as Rob and Harry Campbell. She knew Rob wasn't his name, but not about his brother.

_ Yeah. Samuel's his real name. You didn't expect dad to let any son of his to be called _Henry_.

She shook her head. Of course not.

_ Now I do understand why you looked so weirded-out when I introduced my parents.

She laughed, the second most beautiful sound in Dean's book. Third being Baby's roar.

Dean, a forgotten toast in his hand, spiced wine in the other, looked up the stairs. A chill ran through his spine, remembering the last time he climbed down those stairs, a baby heavy in his arms. He ignored it, other thoughts forming in his head.

_ Mom, is that me or mini-me stole me my brother?

_ Kids are perceptive Dean, lots of empathy; especially you. Since they don't always understand what people say, it's survival to at least get their emotions. And they aren't burdened by plausibility. He must have picked on the fact that the special feelings Sammy was describing, he felt them _toward him_. As a baby brother.

And baby Dean thought that the tall man looking at him like he meant the world to him was called Harry.

_ You hadn't started to pick-up names, did you?

_ No, the echo-graph is scheduled for just after winter break. We had no idea about the baby's sex. Until you came around.

Dean nodded, thoughtful. Whatever plan Sam had. Maybe it could work.

* * *

I'm a bit early. For reasons.

Good end of year's Celebrations, whichever you are celebrating.

Thanks all of you for following, favoring and reviewing my modest writings.

See ya next year.


	41. Chapter 41 - D'ici mon amour

**D'ici mon amour - Indochine**

(From here, my love)

* * *

Huddled as close to the fire as he dared; Gabriel took a look around him. After Ende and the wolves' sudden appearance, and her assurance the Leviathans would be distracted for a while, they searched for a shelter to spend the dark time in.

Vali found a cave that had been previously occupied by what smelled like and odd combination of rugaru, werewolf and vampire. Didn't matter much, they had left over a week ago and the place was all theirs for now. Just wide enough to accommodate two big wolves, a giant horse and three humanoid figures.

Ende was still outside, laying spells upon spells to keep them hidden. And his other children, while waiting for her return before speaking up, were murmuring among themselves, wondering why they never knew about her, and what she was exactly. Since she obviously had more powers than theirs united.

Gabriel shivered. No fire could make it better by now. He was dying. Slowly, painfully dying. And nothing short of a miracle could change it. He had always known he would. Now, he simply regretted Sam would share his fate. Robed of his soul, Sam wouldn't even make it to the heaven awaiting for him and Dean. He would disappear the way angels do. And his brother would stay all alone in a place meant for two.

He threw the twig he was idling with into the fire in a bout of helpless anger. He should have stayed away from the boys. They would have had better odds.

The half hidden stares he got back made him duck his head, the throwing motion had brought a pained hiss to his lips. He was in a very bad shape, and the cracks in his grace were slowly spreading, until it would be too shattered to stay together, and explode leaving a cold corpse behind.

Ende was finished with their hiding. Nothing Gabriel or any minor angel couldn't have handled in normal circumstances, even Jinx could have, if she knew the spells. Most Gabriel had created himself, others he didn't even know. Like he never suspected the Goddess of Secrets to be the child he murdered a long time ago.

More like attempted to murder apparently.

_ So… what are you exactly?" Jinx seemed to have been declared the voice of their concerns.

Ende, now seated close to Gabriel, and facing the others, glanced at him, giving her maker the chance to explain himself. Honestly, Gabriel would rather not. He was too exhausted to launch himself into what would obviously be a difficult conversation. But he owed them this much. Any of them, he added inwardly upon feeling Ende's warm hand resting softly on his arm.

_ There is no name for what Ende is." He started slowly, trying to find the right words for what he was about to explain. The depth of his sins. "She is one of a kind that should have never existed.

 _Do you mean she is an archangel Nephilim?_

Fenrir asked prudently, and with a tinge of sane fear. Gabriel shook his head, he almost wish it was that simple.

_ No, I never sired the child of a human." He remembered a time, not that far, when in a female body she had wished she could bear the child of one man. So badly. "Ende is my child, but I did not sire her, I made her. When I decided to leave Heaven, I also knew my brethren wouldn't let me. Not after Lucifer's loss. I had to disappear, completely.

It had been dark, painful times. Not only for him, for all of them. God had left, His Light gone with him. The Morning Star, the beloved had become Lucifer the fallen. And his Light was gone too. The Host was weeping, tearing at each other's throats. They consorted with humanity, and slaughtered the fruit of their unions, terrified that God would disapprove were he to come back. They had killed countless who worshiped idols, in hope their Father would come back.

It was troubled times, with no lead, no purpose.

That was when Michael and Raphael decided to gang up on the one who had been the closest to God just before he left : Metatron. They wanted, needed, to know what he told the Scribe, if there were anything that could help them chose a path.

Gabriel was no less desperate than they were, he let that happen. Encouraged it even. But the Scribe fled.

And gave Gabriel the idea to do the same. Except that an Archangel couldn't bail and hide as easily than a regular angel, even one who had been close to God. He had to create a vessel that couldn't be tracked down for instance.

He needed to make sure his vessel wouldn't be found. So he made a test version. Gathered leftover grace his siblings had left into former vessels and poured it into a dummy carved with the spells he had crafted for his safety. Then started a game of hide and seek with that dummy, to test and improve his spell craft.

What he never imagined was that the bundle of mismatched grace would get a mind on its own, become _someone_. There was a reason why taking grace from another angel was such a huge deal. Grace was unique to each angel : the robbed angel would become nothing more than human. And the thief would burn from the inside out.

And the unthinkable had happened : Ende had happened.

At first, Gabriel had been almost elated; not only his spells were holding. But he wouldn't be alone in his exile on Earth. Ende had been such a fast learner, soaking up everything Gabriel could teach her; always eager to discover new things.

Until she started to ask about where she came from, to understand how different she was from any other beings they met. And Gabriel, always the coward, started to fear the day she would find the answers to those questions. Until the dread made him do the worst thing he ever did : he decided to end her sinful life.

But Ende had been a good student, and most likely realized her Father's trouble long ago. She crafted her own disappearing act. To reappear latter under the name of The God of Mysteries and Goddess of Secrets.

Silence fell in the cave, the crackling of fire and gusts of winds the only sounds to be heard. It felt so strange to have Ende back at his side. He had been so miserable without her; never dared get too involved with his others children. Never dared to get close to anyone, really.

Until a chestnut haired Sasquatch fell for him.

_ How many children after me?" Ende asked softly, considering the four before her.

_ Twenty seven." Jinx answered. "We were five to come to our Father when he fell in the World of the Dead. Joined by six more on the run. My brother and Hel were the first to fall to the Leviathans. Others followed. We are what's left.

Gabriel swallowed, guilt forming a painful lump in his throat. He had failed his children in so many ways, an still, they gave up their afterlife for him. He wasn't sure to know why; was it even worth it?

He felt Ende's hand weight down on his arm: _don't go there_.

It took a while for the four Demi-Gods and The Unthinkable to warm up to each other and for chatter to start again. Gabriel was no part of it, could barely follow what was said. The shivers were getting worse. He let the fire's dance hypnotize him, drifting in and out of consciousness.

It happened suddenly. Like the cord of a harp snapping. The pain flared, blinding, white hot, so intense he heard his grace scream in agony; but no sound could pass his lips.

His connection with Sam was severed.

He was dying, and given the small place they were in, he would hurt what was left of his progeny in the process. He was panicking, trying to get out, when he felt a weight on his chest. He might have heard, or not, someone apologizing to him.

Then the pain condensed on his chest and he passed out.

…

Consciousness came back slowly; the heat of fire, the rough fur of Vali and Fenrir covering his trembling body, hushed, worried whispers somewhere close. His chest felt like he had been driven on by a freight train. Or what it would feel like for a human.

He groaned in pain. The whispers shushed.

_ What the hell happened?

_ You lost the connection. I had to resort to drastic measures to stop the spread." Came Ende's tired voice from under Vali's fur.

_ How drastic?

He couldn't help the small quiver in his voice; he wanted to cry and shout, what happened to Sam ?

_ I… crystalized your grace around the wound. It will slow the spread, but it also means those parts can't be healed. Ever. It's like... turning sand into glass.

Gabriel fell speechless. He was crippled. Forever. A huge chunk of his grace, his very being, was lost to him, permanently. Not that he wasn't grateful for his life, he still had to mourn the loss. And his worries about Sam gnawing at him.

_ Your link was holding by threads Father. You were lucky that Purgatory is closely linked to Earth time frame.

Gabriel nodded. So it meant that Sam was back in the 80's. The body Gabriel had created had bound him too closely to his time line, the time dissociation between Sam and him snapped the bond.

_ Maybe it's a good thing, at least I'll stop pulling at him.

The look Ende gave him made him rethink his statement. Then pale.

 _What is it?_ Sleipnir asked.

_ Human souls are like mini universes, a delicate balance between orbiting power sources. When Father got wounded, his bond with Samuel Winchester enabled him to tap into that energy to maintain enough stability not to explode and die. It tipped the balance into Sam's soul; but as long as Father's grace was pulling a steady stream of power, it stayed still enough. Now, the balance is off and there is no one to forcefully keep the order.

_ So basically, Sam's soul is a clashing mess of power plants." Jinx surmised somberly.

Gabriel nodded. He really should never have gotten close to the boys. His beautiful, messed up, stubborn boys.

Dean and his oversensitive heart, locked up under layers of lead-made safes in order to survive the awful world he had been thrown into; with a tiny peep-hole called Sammy.

And Sam the tainted soul, so desperate to find absolution for a sin that wasn't his.

Gabriel wasn't fooled, he knew that one of the reasons Sam fell for him was because he was an angel, and that his love for the boy was a form of Heavenly validation. Sam also loved his Trickster side because it suited his own dark nature.

He also knew people tended to fall in love with those who would fill-in their cracks, sooth their insecurities. It didn't make it less real. And Gabriel was no better.

* * *

When Sam came back down the stairs, it was to find Dean and Mary bent toward each other. He couldn't hear whatever they were saying, but they shared some obvious complicity. It was both soothing to see Dean almost forgetting why they were here and then in the first place, happily reconnecting with their mother. He felt also a bit jealous: Mary was carrying him in her belly but she had never met him per say, and he had no memories, no connection with her.

It took Dean two and a half minute to realize he was back. Sam had to force the smile he gave his brother when he beckoned him to join. He settled against the wall instead, arms loosely crossed. He was loathed to burst his brother's happy bubble, but it was time.

So he channeled his self disgust about what he was about to do and his jealousy into anger and wormed himself into the upcoming fight.

_ Shouldn't have been easy to drop the Hunt." He started evenly.

Mary started, as if she had totally forgotten about the second guy in the house, and turned to him.

_ I'll have to admit, it wasn't. Even after I married John, I kept doing odd jobs when I could. But having a child to be there for; it gives perspective.

She smiled fondly at Dean who stared back at her with soulful eyes he usually never dared to let on display. Even with Sam.

_ But you knew. About the deal you made. You're a Hunter, you must have known there would have a price to pay. That he meant to take something away from you, about November '83, isn't it?

She gaped at him; at his slowly darkening tone. Sam saw Dean about to tell him to tone down. He didn't dare to blatantly glare at him to make his brother shut up. The message was still conveyed. Dean was this much attuned to his body language.

He let the silence stretch uncomfortably, Mary glancing at her older to get clues about what could have gotten to the son she didn't know.

He let a cruel, dark smile play on his lips. Not that he enjoyed the whole thing. It was his mother, even if she felt so estranged. He had wished so badly he could get to know her. To understand why Dean and Dad were worshiping her memory.

_ Of course you did." He went on. "That's why the second one, isn't it?

Dean gasped loudly, half out of his seat, ready to confront Sammy in a heartbeat. this time Sam pined him back on his armchair with a glance.

_ You're not stupid, you knew since dear ol'yellow eyed had given up on your soul, he would come back for something much more valuable. Another soul for example. A child's soul for example.

_ Sam!" Dean couldn't help but shout this time, crestfallen.

_ Except that, of course, giving up the dear, sweet, child you raised to a demon was out of the table." He went on, turning his back to Dean so he wouldn't have to see how much what would follow will hurt his big brother. "So you made another one. A child you wouldn't have time to get to know too much. A child you and your perfect little family wouldn't miss too much.

He barely moved when she slapped him. It had been a hard hit. But he expected it to come, sooner or later, Dean really took after her.

_ How dare you!" She was trembling, her eyes brimming with un-shed tears. "Baby, trust me I'd never.

He raised his eyebrows mockingly.

_ Trust _you_? I don't even know you. Never got the chance. _Mom_.

* * *

Had a nice holiday?


	42. Chapter 42 - Les yeux de mon père

**Les Yeux de mon père - Michel Sardou**

(My Father's eyes)

* * *

John parked his car in the alley, noticing idly the foreign GTO on the other side of the road. Not that foreign car was unusual during Christmas holidays, with all the family visiting each other. As a former marine, he was simply used to notice changes in his environment.

He cut the engine and rested his arms over the wheel. He sighed, watching his home. The familiar decor, the little garland Dean made with his mom', his forgotten bike, the warm light flowing through the curtains, drawing doodles on the short mow. He looked up to Dean's window, the dim glow of his child's night-light. Once again, he was late to say good night to his son.

Co-owning his garage came with much needed greater incomes, but also with extensive hours and a heavy mortgage.

He shook himself out of his gloomy dreams. John didn't like Christmas much. Mary and he were both only child: his mother died while he was away, in Niam, Mary's parents about ten years ago. Meaning, until Dean, they had no-one to celebrate with.

He had the gift he had been trying to get Dean for the last two week in the trunk. Since the kid was in bed, he should use the opportunity to bring the gift inside to be wrapped. He decided against, he wanted nothing more than to cuddle with his wife right now. And maybe kiss his son good night, if he was not yet sound asleep. He probably was still awake, waiting for his daddy.

He got out of the car and headed to the front door. John didn't give much thoughts to the voices coming from inside; figuring it must have been the TV. That's why he stood frozen for a few seconds when he ended up facing two tall, broad men, one of them standing menacingly over Mary.

_ Trust _you_? I don't even know you. Never got the chance. _Mom_.

What the Hell? Disbelief was quickly replaced by anger; no one dared talk to his wife like that! He took a step forward, fists raised.

John made the same mistake most of the creatures the brothers had to fight made: think that the bigger guy was the biggest threat, and underestimate the short one's stealth. He didn't even have time to take a second step; the blond bulk was already on him, trying to pin him on the ground.

Followed an angry and violent brawl. It was quick though, John has been a civilian for years know, and the guy was sharp and strong. And oddly he seemed to know John's best moves, renewed and improved. John ended munching the carpet, his arms viciously torn behind him, both hands held in a firm grip. A zipping sound later, his wrists were bound together and the cold nuzzle of a gun was poised at the back of his neck.

The bigger intruder hadn't moved a finger. Mary was staring, in shock.

_ Dean… why…" She stammered, helpless.

She tried a step forward. And then only, the other guy moved; raising an arm between John and his wife.

_ John's got nothing to do with this. So he will sit tight and behave." He wasn't looking at her but at him. A very hard, dark stare, on an intimidating, sharply cut face. The worst was his voice, silky sweet, with a chilling edge.

John tried to bulk, to shout him to leave Mary alone. He only got a knee deep into his kidneys for his trouble, making him hiss in pain. The guy who was holding him had marine training, it would be tough to out-power him. John was trying to block out Mary's predicament to find a way to get the upper hand over his captor.

Then he saw his baby boy, half hidden in the stairs shadows. And John froze, terrified at the idea of what those psychopaths could do to his precious child.

_ But, you know mom. I kind of understand your choice." The big guy, satisfied with John's stillness, had returned to his mad monologue with Mary. "I mean, what wouldn't _anyone_ sacrifice for Dean. Such a wonderful, perfect child. Who steps into daddy's shoes to make mommy happy when Papa's been a disappointment again. Will slip into mommy's heals when she's not longer there to take care of everyone. Will contort his caring soul into the shape of the soldier Daddy will need to have his back.

"Such a pure and perfect child. Who could compare?

He smirked darkly, and John could even hear the blond above him swallow nervously. He didn't shift in the slightest though, but he obviously wasn't the lead in this mess. It did give John hope that he could sway his captor and convince the guy to release him.

_ Don't even think about it." He heard whisper growl against his neck, getting his small hair to stand in a cold shiver.

_ Even you must see that your partner is nuts." He tried to reason nonetheless.

_ He is my brother. And yes he is, and so I am.

After that, he felt something wet, or oily, spread against his neck, into his collar and soak his shirt. What the Hell?

John tried to turn his head, take a better look at the man than the cursory glance he got upon entering. He heard a 'gasp' from up front and he swept his head back up front, straining his neck to see. The big guy was right in front of Mary, something in his hand.

When he stepped back, John could see the wooden handle of a knife sticking out of his beloved abdomen. Mary staggered a step backward, trying to find a support of sort, before finally leaning on the sofa's backrest.

Three shouts came from three throats at the same time.

_ Mary!" From John.

_ Mom!" In a deep, gravelly voice from just above him.

_ Mommy!" From the stairs, in a small, frightened voice.

John stiffened, then sagged, then stiffened again; his mind was in frenzy, not sure about whom he should worry about the most right now. Because of course, the big guy had wasted no time to turn around and face John's baby boy.

The ex-marine stared, dumbfounded; the man's changed so brutally and completely he looked like someone else. His softened features looked almost sweet, loving when he beckoned his baby boy to come down with them.

John took a deep breath, wanting to warn his boy, tell him to run, to hide from the men who would probably murder them. A tsk and a nudge of the gun against his neck deflated him. Tears of powerless anger started to roll down his cheeks. He blinked furiously to will them away. He needed to keep him bearings if he wanted to get a chance to save his family. Maybe start with trying to free his hands.

The child took a tentative step forward then threw himself into the extended big arms. Cuddled into the broad chest of the man who just stabbed his mother.

_ It's OK buddy. You're strong, you're gonna be OK." He effectively shushed Dean's cries away, rubbing his enormous hand in circles on the child small back. John wanted to kill the bastard, or throw up. Both actually. "You better not touch that knife Mary. Unless you want to bleed to death on your carpet. Or risk killing the sacrifice before time's up.

He now had a calm, clear voice. But anywhen Dean couldn't see his expression, it would become hard again. All softness gone.

_ Harry?" Dean pipped in, fearful, not understanding what was happening. "Why?

_ Because I'm unreliable Dee." The monster brushed gently Dean's blond locks from his forehead.

_ What is mean?

Dean's soft, trusting eyes, the way he leaned in the touch, enthralled by the giant psychopath holding him, it was all knotting John's inside. He whispered his son's name dejectedly.

_ That you can't trust me. I'm not a good guy sweetheart.

Dean contemplated his face carefully for a while. Then turned toward his dad on the floor.

_ Daddy?" He wasn't calling out to him, merely asking a question.

_ He was trying to interfere. So my big brother had to make sure he wouldn't.

In most circumstances, it would have made for a nice view, the sweetness in the man's tone and overall attitude, the way Dean was leaning on him, trusting. It made John feel sick, terribly sick. The guy who invaded their lives, threatened his wife, was now literally mesmerizing his little boy.

God, please. Protect my son. I'll give you everything, my own life. Please, not my son.

He prayed, fervently. John who lost his belief that there was any Great Power watching over them somewhere in the tunnels running under a deep jungle, on the other side of the world; prayed for the first time since he set foot in Vietnam. He prayed with all his soul. Because he felt like nothing short of a miracle could get them out of this nightmare.

 _I can help you._

John froze briefly, before pretending nothing happened. It came from up close, but not in the gravelly voice of the blond above him, who didn't as much as shift. As if he hadn't heard.

_ Dean, do you know why Batman is so strong? Why he trained so hard to become able to chase all the meanies and save the innocent people?

The little boy was shaking his head. Half his fist was stuck into his mouth, like he used to do when younger and tired and feeling unwell. John wanted nothing more than take his baby boy and hug him tight, make that awful nightmare go away. He ached to snatch his child from the monster holding him.

If only he had come back sooner.

 _I can give you the strength to save your family._

_ He did all this because when he was young, very young, some meany killed his parents. Just in front of his eyes. For no real reason; just because he could. That's when little Bruce vowed to be strong, stronger than anyone, to protect everyone and to become Batman.

Dean gasped, fearful, his eyes wet with tears.

 _Do you want my help?_

_ And baby? You can't kill baby." He whined, tears flowing. John ground his teeth, so they did plan to kill them, after they're done playing.

The sick pervert had now his finger tracing dean's spine from under his pajamas' shirt. John felt the guy holding him stiffen. A glimmer of hope brushed his mind, hopping that the bastard's brother wasn't as sick. That at some point he would call it quits, draw the line at child molesting. Until he realized the blonde's breath had quickened, deepened.

They were both monsters.

John closed his eyes, wishing he would at least be spared to feel a boner behind his back.

_ I'm sorry lovebud." A brush of lips on a temple. "I can't save him." Another on the small nose. "He was doomed long before you were born." One on each fluttering eyelid. "No one can save him.

John growled warningly, an ugly beast, coiling with anger and disgust, blooming into his guts.

_ Leave him alone!" He shouted, trashing in his restrain. He didn't care if he were to be gunned, or lose an arm or else. He just couldn't bear to let his child into that sicko's hands.

_ I'm sorry." The breathed sentence stunned him into stillness again. It was Mary, who had stayed strangely quiet all that time, and was now spreading her arms toward the big guy. "I didn't mean to… I didn't want to… I though…

_ What? That you would be able to stop him? To call off the deal? To kill him? You must have realized he's not your run of the mill demon.

 _Just say yes, and I'll help you save your family._

What the hell this nut-job was talking about? And who the hell was talking to him?

_ I .. I don't know… But I would never let him... get to you..." She tried a step forward, he took two to stand at arm's length from her.

_ You _did_ Mary." Then he reached to the knife and twisted it into her wound.

Mary cried in pain. Dean cried in fear and sorrow.

John shouted one single word : _Yes_.

Then it felt as if every nerve was basked in light, hot pure as lava, setting him ablaze. His mind was crushed under the awful weight of something so much bigger than himself; squeeze with difficulty against his skull. He shouted, or he thought he shouted, but his body was no longer his.

Sam was waiting for the telltale glow of light to appear, that's why he was the first to see it. He called out his brother warningly, placed himself between Mary and the vessel his father had become and tucked baby Dean's head into his shoulder to shield his eyes.

Michael had finally come.

Or he hopped it was him.

* * *

Gabriel was seated at the entrance of the cave; watching the tree, the rustle of their leaves on waving branches. His chest was taught, and felt like stone instead of smooth supple skin. Whatever Ende had done to his grace, reflected on his body.

At least, he was stable. For the moment.

The least careless stretch of his grace, or his body could start the reaping back again. He was utterly powerless. Helpless. And alone.

The few children he had left before Ende's arrival were wary of him, of the extent of his mistakes, misdeeds. With the Leviathans on their heels, they had no other choice than to stay together if they wanted the flicker of a chance to keep on living. Didn't mean they had to like it.

 _Mother?_

He felt the brush of concern in the voice call out to him. Heard hooves tentatively come nearer.

Sleipnir. The only child he had born in his guts for months, and delivered. One of the few the Pagans haven't punished because of his mistakes.

Gabriel let him come closer and settle behind his back, offering the support and comfort of his giant belly to lean on.

 _Do you fear they won't come to you?_

_ I might be the only one who do, but I have faith in Sam. He will come.

 _But maybe not in time._

_ Probably not.

 _Don't give up. We are still here. We'll get you through._

Gabriel couldn't help but snicker weakly.

_ I'm not sure your siblings are as accepting of my sins than you do.

 _I'm not either. But if not for them, we wouldn't be here. We would have never_ been.

_ Still love me?" Gabriel asked in small voice.

 _Always mother. They do too. They'll just need some more time to remember._

* * *

blabla, thanks for reading so far. See ya next time.


	43. Chapter 43 - Le Grand Amour

**Le grand amour – Albin de la Simone**

(True Love)

* * *

Sam heard a loud crash, his eyes flew open despite the blaze not yet totally having receded. The angel currently inhabiting their father had wasted no time shrugging Dean off his shoulders.

Still clutching at the younger version of his brother, Sam spared an inquisitive glance toward the form crumpled against the door.

Dean was already gathering his bearings and moving toward a more comfortable position; he nodded to Sam. He was fine. Michael was there, and he would take care of the angel now.

So Sam, still rubbing soothing circles on baby Dean's back, turned to face Mary. He didn't need to speak with Michael per say. He scouted forward as Dean started to address the formidable being.

_ You're quite hard to get. Even Satan had the courtesy to come and try to convince my brother himself instead of sending his lackey do the dirty work.

Cocky and aggravating, Dean just being Dean. Sam smiled.

_ Don't take example on him." He whispered at the little guy in his arms as he crouched down close to their mother.

The flick of a lighter "Oh, by the way, you're soaked with holy oil, so I were you, I'd play nice."

Mary was alternatively eyeing Sam and the thing that was no longer her husband with a wary expression. Then she settled on Sam, torn between grabbing to her baby boy and scouring away from the man who stabbed her.

As a gesture of good will, Sam released Dean and let him go to hug him mommy. "Careful buddy, you don't want to move the knife." Dean nodded and gingerly leaned on his mom's other side. Sam passed a hand over his face. The last half hour had been stressful enough, and he was far from done.

He wished he was back to that motel, with Dean halfway draped over him, Gabriel a soothing, kind of hot presence by their side.

_ Look, mom; I'm sorry it got that far. But this guy," he turned toward John, standing straighter and smoother than he ever seen his father, all wrapped in his self-righteousness. Dean didn't have a chance with that kind of guy. "he's almost impossible to find, and next to our only chance to buy a future for mankind.

She nodded, troubled, her arms protectively wrapped around her child's shoulders.

_ Who is he?

_ Michael, the first archangel.

_ Angels are real?" Her wariness of Sam briefly out shadowed by the surprise of such a discovery. Sam nodded. Mary reported her attention to the discussion between Dean and the Firstborn.

"But I am going to kill him because it is right and I have to. Because I am a good son."

Yeah… Sam kind of anticipated that Dean wouldn't be able to get through Michael, they were supposed to be pretty much the same after all. So any objection, any argument Dean would have; Michael would have run over a million times too.

There was really no other choice than _show_ him. How Dean and him were different. Talk wouldn't be enough. Not if Michael was half as stubborn as Dean was.

A soft caress on his cheek stole back his focus. It was baby Dean, half out of Mary's arm to reach to him. Sam smiled and leaned into Dean's small hand.

 _You know he's never gonna say yes to you. He's at least as stubborn as you are; none of you would sway the other's stance._

_ You ok?" Baby Dean asked in a concerned voice. Sam kissed the un-scared, un-calloused skin of his palm.

_ I love you. Never forget sweetheart. You are the best part of me.

 _He's gonna let the world burn before giving up full control over to someone else._

From the corner of his eyes, somewhere in the periphery of his mind; Sam noticed Mary trying to get back her hold onto baby Dean, wincing and hissing at the pain. Sam couldn't bring himself to care enough. His focus was already divided between the need to get Michael on board with his plan and the adorable blonde in front of him.

"Free will's an illusion, Dean. That's why you have to say yes."

 _He's not gonna do it. You'll never get to see Lucifer again. Your little brother will keep on walking Earth in a non-perfect but healthy meatsuit, and you'll never see him again._

_ Love you too Baby." Dean answered softly, landing a very quick peck on Sam's lips, bringing a sad smile on them.

 _So, if you really want to settle score. Use me. Heal mom, erase their memories of tonight, send us back to our time. And then, ask_ me _. I'll say yes to you. I'll bring you to your brother. I have a beef with him too after all._

 _And I'm pretty much used to have someone else call the shots in my stead."_ He added bitterly.

_ I know Dean. Take care of mom, OK? And take care of yourself too. Eat vegetables.

Sam chuckled at the face Dean made. He did promise, even to eat vegetables.

 _You know it's feasible. That's the only shot you've got. So… Say yes to me?_

 _Unless you're afraid that my stain would taint you._

Sam was up and turning to the angel, the scorn of his last statement in full view on his face. John's eyes were still riveted to his 'true vessel's' but a slight hunch, the way his shoulders bent sideways were enough indication he was listening. His slowing speech that he was considering the proposition.

Sam smirked darkly.

And slowly made his way forward Dean, the real one, the big one and slid his arms around his waist and torso. He was surprised to feel his usually skittish brother lean into the embrace. In the meantime, Sam had snatched a pair of sunglasses on the side table used to put the keys and other trinkets near the entrance and stashed them in his pocket.

 _You think your luminous majesty can handle a touch of darkness?_

_ I heard you. We're done here." Michael simply answered, and nodded minutely to Sam.

The next beat, they were back to their time.

In the exact same place.

Dean blinked and wavered for a second. Angelic time travel was a bit dizzying, worse than the usual zap. He didn't even got the time to get his footing back and feel frustrated that their 'last chance' stunt got poof. He got spinned around and a pair of dark glasses was slipped on his nose.

_ Sammy?...

Sam had a felt pen, probably stolen in his kid's room, in hand and was using the reflection of the glasses to write on his own head.

Then snapped just before Dean's eyes. Apparently, he was too stunned to listen to his little brother.

_ Dean focus. No time to dream. I need you to promise me : 24hour. You give me 24hour. Ok?

He babbled a while before finding his voice. Sam was still scribbling things Dean couldn't see, too dark inside with the sunglasses.

_ What.. wh.. what do you want Sam?

His frantic brother, partner and everything that mattered stopped his mad scribbling to frame Dean's face with both hands, setting the glasses askew.

_ I need you to trust me. 24hour. Then it's up to you.

_ What's up to me? Sam, dude, you're scaring me there.

Dean couldn't see himself, but he didn't need to to know that he was wide eyed, pupils full blown behind the dark pieces of glass. A breath away from panicking.

For a fraction of second he felt like Sam was about to kiss him.

Then...

Sam let his left hand fall before Dean's eyes, breathing a toneless 'yes' to the wind.

Dean finally recognized the symbols on Sam's forefront.

Blinding light engulfed the whole room for the second time in minutes of Dean's life, in a little more than twenty six years, as Sam finished the last symbol.

* * *

The world crashed around Dean. Sam crashed on the carpet, sealed away inside his own mind, trapped with a most certainly very pissed archangel.

A keen wail made Dean shudder and turn around; nonsensically expecting his younger self to be there. It took him too long to realize the heart wrenching sound was coming from his own lips.

The shock passed.

The enormity of what Sam has done caught up. Crashing like waves over his already battered heart. He couldn't breathe. Fell on his knees besides his brother's limp body. It was too much to process right now though.

So Dean busied himself with rearranging Sam's limbs, awkwardly bend. Took his big hairy head on his lap. Smoothed the hair out of Sammy's face. The felt pen had been purple, but the seal was an angry glowing red. As if Michael was trying to burn it from the inside.

Good luck with that! It was Gabriel's spell work.

He had to sniff a few times before Dean caught up with the simple fact that he was crying. He tried to dry his eyes with his sleeve. Bumped into the sunglasses.

The anger fell heavy on his mind.

John glasses flew across the room. A fist collided with the floor. Painfully.

How dare he? How dared Sam say yes to Michael, let Dean behind. Again! Counting the pieces of his heart flowing away with the now angry, burning tears.

Dean has to catch his breath. His ranting had taken volumes. Good thing the house was still empty since the poltergeist they had hunted there a few years ago. He shifted, leaned his back against the wall careful to keep Sam's head onto his lap.

_ I should let you lie on the hard floor…" He grumbled without gusto.

Then he remembered Sam's last request.

Wrong wording.

He remembered the request Sam had made just before he trapped himself with the First Born inside his own noggin. Sam asked him 24 hours; he would give him those, not one more minute, then he would wipe those damn symbols. And see what would come out: Hope or Death. So Dean decided he must be a quarter hour since they came back to now and set his watch's timer.

Dean leaned his head against the wall. Recalled the latest events.

_ You crafty bastard. You had it all planed since how long? How long Sammy you planned to say yes to Michael?

Dean banged his head against the wall. Softly at first, the louder as he came back into his memories and found more and more clues.

Sam telling Dean he had a way to keep Michael put. Obviously the oily oil was a decoy, for Dean's benefit, Sam hadn't believed his brother could sway Michael.

The sigils used to trap Meg into Raquel's head.

Sam pushing Dean to find someone to rely on in life other than him. Not because of his relationship with Gabriel; because he knew he might not win the prize fight he must having right now.

Lucifer asking Sam if he knew what he was doing with such a weirded out expression.

Did it even went back to The Day? When Sam begged him to let him take the protector mantel, to basically reverse their roles. Was Gabriel part of it? Was it what took Sam so long to come back?

Dean banged his head so hard it rang.

No, Gabriel was way too much into Sam to let him plan something so screwed. He wouldn't have wanted Sam to risk his noggin like that.

Would he? No. Definitely not.

So it meant Sam had not only fooled Dean, but an archangel. Or maybe two, depending on how he did convince Michael to use him as a meat suit.

_ I hate you." Dean whispered brokenly.

He wished he had his old Walkman with him, or better: be in his car. To blast some old angry rock high enough to make his blood thrum with rumble of bass; the tempo take lead to his heartbeat. Dean had two ways to cope with sorrow and anger: a destructive one, or drown himself into music. Loud enough to overflow his own thoughts.

Let other voices, other words, shout out his misery.

He had none of this there. And a heart screaming betrayal.

It hurt.

_ You lied to me. You promised you wouldn't let me behind. And yet you did. Again. You already knew you would. I hate you…

He shivered. The evening was blending into night. The abandoned house was chilly, especially when you were sitting on the floor. So Dean dragged Sam up, careful not to mess up the seal, until he had his brother's shoulder against his chest and was able to wrap both arms and legs around the prone body. Absentmindedly rubbing his arm.

Slowly, the warmth from Sam's body swept to Dean's; reminding him of the way Sam had cradled his kiddy self, years ago, an hour ago. It had been weird, watching this. He knew the shape of Sam's hands, the warmth of his body, his smell; by heart.

He had been seeing, and almost feeling it at the same time.

The worst thing maybe was how… inappropriate Sam had been holding little Dean. John under his grip had been ramrod stiff, shivering with rage upon seeing his baby boy being all but willingly molested. Dean had only be able to feel anticipation, and jealousy.

Here, alone in his empty home, wrapped around his unresponsive brother, Dean was mourning even more acutely than ever the loss of what they could have been.

Yes they were brothers. Yes they were both male. And yes Dean had issues, many of them, including the two above and Hell. To cite only a few.

But it had been Sam who shied away from his every step forward. And now, it was just too late.

_ Why Sammy?...

It cut so deep. And there was nothing he could do to ease the pain, straddled in the place where his life has started to spin down the sewer. Where he had lost everything.

_ Mom please…

Anger raised its ugly head again, in a desperate surge. If asked, Dean wouldn't be able to tell how or when he retrieved Sam's knife. Nor for how long he was mauling the floor with it.

_ You asshole bitch. You gave me hope. You gave me forgiveness. You gave me _you_. And you had to take it all away again! And I'll never even know WHY!

This time the knife landed into his thigh. Dean barely acknowledged it. It wasn't even that painful. Barely enough to distract his mind from his carved out heart. The pain was sending tremors through his leg. The blood was rapidly pooling, soaking his jean's.

Dean didn't care.

He nearly stabbed himself a second time when Sam's hand sluggishly moving onto his wound stopped him. Drew a blank to Dean's mind.

His eyes flew to Sam's forehead. The seal was back to dim purple but had been left untouched.

A glow of light, warm and tingling, and he was as good as new.

Dean was speechless. And a bit hot. The hand hadn't move away and rested heavily on his dried trousers.

_ What… Sammy? You there? Sam. Dammit!

Dean let his finger travel to the hand. Gingerly. As if not sure if it was real. They climbed up the arm, around the broad shoulder. Curled around Sam's neck.

_ Baby you there? You hear me?

Sammy.

He was shaking now. It wasn't pain anymore. His hand stayed in the crook of Sam's neck.

_ I'm here Baby. I'm right here, OK? Not going anywhere. So you do it. Whatever you do. And you come back. Come back please. I'll wait.

Not that he had anything else to do : be there for his adorable pain in the ass little brother. Like he always did. Like Michael forgot how to do.

…

That was it!

Was it?

_ Sammy? Am I right?

No wonder Sam though Dean couldn't reach through Michael's stubbornness. They were the same, kind of, after all.

Dean would have never turned against Sam. No matter how dire things became, or would become, between them. But he hadn't forgiven. None of Sam's real or suspected betrayals.

Too caught up into his own feelings, he never stopped to think of Sam's, his motives. Not until Sam punched him in the gut, flipped the coin and showed him.

That was why.

Sam had needed Dean to forgive him. For everything.

And he needed the time to show Michael the other side of the coin too. That it was still possible to get his head out of his ass and find a way back to his brother. Nothing to lose. And everything to gain in forgiving.

_ I got you Baby. Sorry, it took me so long. _I got you now._

Dean was half rocking them both now, his lips into Sam's hair. He had bitched about their length many times. Truth is, he wouldn't have them any other way. The tears rolling down his cheeks were no longer burning.

_ Take your time Love, show him what he's missing. I'll be there. I'll always be there, waiting for you. You know that, do you?

The night was chill in the empty house. But Dean was warm, and blinded by relief. Too warm. Unnoticed, Sam was burning up.

* * *

Needless to say. That one was pain to write. And not really up to my expectations.

Hope you did enjoy.

Looks like I've lost half my audience between the last three chapters.

Don't worry. It won't be too long. About 50 (short) chap in all. We reached the last leg. \o/


	44. Chapter 44 - Ainsi soit-il

**Ainsi soit-il (Louis Chedid)**

So be it

* * *

Castiel staggered and swayed a bit when landing back to the present. Gabriel had him stay longer than anticipated, to let him recover from his previous journey, and gave him a lift to 2000 when it had been time (he wasn't supposed to know were Castiel had been from), but he was still weakened. The last leg of his Journey back had him dizzy.

Now, Castiel was outside the Motel. The Winchesters weren't there, and he wasn't sure he knew what to do. He pondered his options: follow the girls and come back to Bobby's, or try to find Dean and Sam. If they were already back.

He was fishing his phone to call Dean when he felt it. Michael was on Earth.

He had been still unconscious when the Winchesters had left 1981. Gabriel told him that their elder brother had made a brief appearance, so he knew Dean and Sam's plan to meet with him had succeeded.

But having Michael on Earth now, was worrisome. At least. With the Winchesters, anything and everything was prone to go wrong. Right now, Castiel had a foreboding feeling that something had gone very wrong. He couldn't imagine how Michael managed to make Dean agree to say 'yes'. That _Sam_ would let his brother say 'yes'.

Unless Michael did something to Sam. Not that breaking Sam's legs and remove his lungs had helped Zachariah obtain the much sought after 'yes' from Dean.

Now Castiel knew what he had to do. He had to make sure what had happened in Lawrence Kansas.

In a few wingbeats, he was there, on the outskirts of the small town. He could feel his grace tremble from the overwhelming presence. Oddly, not as much as he expected from standing so close to the firstborn. Something was amiss.

He carefully stepped closer. Michael's grace was unmoving, he would have said dormant, if it could make any sense regarding an angel. In the meantime, he could also sense Dean coming through various stages of distress, anger, despair.

It meant that Dean wasn't the vessel. And Michael couldn't have brought John forward in time without screwing everything. This was not a course of action the firstborn would have contemplated. There was only one other option, one option that made Castiel afraid to consider. Because of what he knew it would do to Dean. It still didn't explain Michael's unresponsiveness.

Castiel was on the street, facing an emptied house, with an overgrown front yard and an old tree. There were two being, and two souls in that house. Including one of the eldest beings in the world.

There was Dean in that house. And Sam, hosting Michael.

He went forward, under the porch. Why was Michael not awake?

From this close, he could hear Dean's mumbling. He wasn't talking to Michael, he was talking to Sam. And Sam wasn't responding.

Then, and only then, Castiel remembered Meg, in the basement. Michael was trapped in Sam's mind. Or more accurately : Sam was trapped inside his own mind, with Michael. Castiel couldn't imagine the torments his brother could inflict on the soul who dared ensnare him.

He wanted to go in. To assess the situation. To help.

He could hear the rustle of fabric as Dean was rocking his brother's body. He could hear the words of praise, of faith, of love, Dean was whispering to his other half.

"You were wrong Sam. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, you cannot be to me. You hear me Sammy? _Nothing_."

Castiel wasn't very well aware of humans' customs, even if Meg had taught him some. He still understood that Dean wouldn't like to have a witness right now. So Castiel stood, invisible, under the porch. Waiting for Dean to quiet down and be in better disposition to talk.

The sun was starting to show when Dean's whispers quieted down. Castiel stepped in.

The Righteous Man, the soul Castiel had found deep in the pit, healed as much as he could and brought back, kicking and screaming, to Earth, was half asleep. His cheeks were dampened by unrestrained tears. He looked worn down, out of Hope. Stubbornness clung to him like an exoskeleton, the only thing keeping him standing. That had kept him standing for so long alongside his deep need and love for his brother.

_ Hi Cass. You look better." He sounded raspy and tired.

_ Hello Dean. What happened?

Dean offered his a wry smile. Sam said yes. What else was there to tell?

Castiel crouched down near their entwined bodies; he had been told it was easier for humans to speak at eye level.

_ You know that this seal won't keep Michael very long. This is not a solution.

Dean nodded, pushed a wayward strand of hair out of Sam's face, revealing the purple seal on his forehead.

_ That's not his plan. It just needs to hold for the next …" He looked up his watch "seventeen hours and forty-two minutes.

Dean didn't forward more. Castiel refrained to ask and let the silence settle inside the house. Outside, birds were starting to chirp, welcoming the new day to come.

_ Cass?

He nodded, signifying he was listening.

_ I… you mind getting me some water?

This house had long been out of electricity or water. Castiel flew to the neighbor's and stole a pitcher and a glass. It took longer to fill up the pitcher than the rest of the trip. In a minute, he was back to Dean. He sipped half a glass and put it back down.

_ You might want to drink more." Castiel offered tentatively; Dean really had a raspy voice.

_ If I do I'll have to pee.

Unsaid, Dean wasn't ready to let go of Sam.

_ Dean. What's the plan?

_ The same. Convince Michael not to go after Lucifer. To screw God's plan.

_ How?

_ By showing him. That they can be forgiven. That I forgave Sam, for everything, I stopped pretending that it didn't happen. Because I finally understood him. Sam wanted to show Michael that if he just tried to understand Lucifer, he could too. Stop feeling betrayed. Stop hurting.

_ There is also Gabriel's treason, and Raphael's murder in Sam's mind. Where do you think that would lead?

Dean shook his head. He hadn't been privy of Sam's plan, he just figured it out. He had no idea how Sam though those facts would fit into his scheme.

_ Cass. I need you to go to Bobby's. Tell them. Make sure the girls have arrived safe.

_ I will.

Then Castiel flew off, back to Sioux-Fall. And Dean finally fell asleep, never letting go of Sam.

* * *

He was so soon landing in the Singer Salvage that Meg was already hanging at his neck. Castiel had to admit that kissing her, and the things she did with his body, felt pleasant. He still wasn't sure to understand all about this. Their intercourse did look like the kind of thing Sam and Gabriel, or in a lesser measure, Jo and Dean would do.

Did that mean him and Meg were an item? Dean had done thin kind of thing with multiple women without giving it too much importance either.

Castiel appreciated his talks with Meg, and the intercourse. He wasn't sure he cared about her the way Dean or Sam cared about their partners. Nor whether she cared. It was disturbing.

But right now, he wasn't there to 'move furniture' with Meg. So he pried her arms off his neck and went to the house.

_ Ow Clarence that hurts my feelings you know?" She complained. "Do you even care?

Yes, he did, but right now, he had bigger worries. Because if Sam wasn't able to get through Michael, there would be nothing to stop him from beaming at Lucifer. And life on Earth would end.

Castiel always had his doubts, about Heaven's ends and means, about the Winchesters' dedication and ability to stop the Apocalypse. About many things. He had to admit, he didn't believe much in Sam. He had a real history of making bad calls, sometimes for good reasons, and ending up making things worse.

The door creaked and squeaked as per usual when opening and slamming down behind Meg. In a second, Bobby, Ellen and Joanna were crammed in the entry, their expectant faces turning down upon realizing he was alone.

_ I came to bear news.

_ Good news or bad news?" Booby asked businesslike.

_ Both I guess. Dean and Sam are back to now, they managed to get to Michael.

_ That's the good news. What about the bad ones?

_ Sam has said yes to Michael. He is restrained for now, but there no way to know how events will turn out when the seal wears off.

* * *

When Dean woke up, the sun was still high in the sky and his arm was numb.

_ Dude, how can you weight so much? You've been on rabbit food for as long as you started to order for yourself. Except pancakes.

Sam loved pancakes. This must be how he got all those pounds. Dean always wished he could have made pancakes for his brother more often.

Something crinkled in his breast pocket when he shifted his brother's body to reclaim his arm. It was odd, because Dean had learnt the hard way never to put things in that pocket. When a werewolf had embed his lighter into his ribs with a well-aimed punch.

He shook the needles and pins out of his arm while still holding Sam with the other before reaching up to his pocket. It was a newspaper. A folded newspaper with the date spread on display: Dean's birthdate. It made no sense.

And it was too heavy to be simply paper. He put the parcel on his lap and started unwrap it with a single hand. Soon a medal on a thread slipped out of it. It was made out of a quarter that had been polished to bear engravings and pierced with two dots on opposite sides. The tread was tied to the two holes. One face figured a "Yin-yang" symbol. The other face had two words on it : "Ever After" and a loose sideways 8 symbol. It was sloppy, hand made.

It came back to him. It was an infinite symbol.

It was from Sam.

His last gift. His last promise.

Dean had thought he had no more tears to shed. He was wrong.

Because now he knew, that they could have been. If only he had tried a little harder.

* * *

When Michael had invaded his being, the first thing he felt had been pain. Awful, burning, obliterating pain. A bit like when Balthazar gave him some of his memories, a million times worse.

Sam didn't even try to resist, he would be crushed, torn apart. So he let go, all control, all restrain, he didn't even try to keep his thoughts in order. So he clung onto one thing, one single though to hold onto, until he got used to the presence crushing the inside of his skull. He kept Dean's eyes and the need to come back to him and let the storm wash over him, scatter his being and settle around.

It could have been a second. It could have been a million years. Except that some intact part of Sam's mind had kept a sense of urgency; he wasn't sure why. He tentatively uncurled from around his memory rock and started feeling around for the other parts that belonged to him. Luckily, most weren't too far, and all linked one to another. He would just have to pull on a thread and it would all come back obediently if unorderly.

So Sam pulled thread after thread, in order to remember, where he was, what he was doing there. Until it came back.

 _Michael._

He felt the storm shift. It hadn't settled then. Sam had just been lucky to end up into the eye of the cyclone while it was pounding at the edges of his realm.

 _What did you do to us little man?_

Sam hadn't come to that part yet. He scrambled a bit around the memory lines to find the answer. Glad that Michael gave him the time to do so. He felt angry, but more curious even.

 _I trapped us both in my mind apparently._

 _For what purpose? You must know it won't hold eternally._

Feeling Michael's anger building up and closing up on him, Sam was glad the archangel had found something else than him to rage against while he took the time to get back together. Now, he better get the answer quickly. Before the storm tears him apart for good.

 _I love my brother._

It was the only articulate answer he could give.

 _I love my brother, always have. Always will. And he loves me too._

 _So what?_

Sam inner self smiled. He remembered, now. Everything.

 _Let me show you._

For Sam life had started in the leathered backseat of a vintage black car, high speed on the road. Running from Something that kept his Father awake at night. Waking him and his brother with his muffled screams and sobs. He knew Dean was itching to join dad, comfort him, but he had stayed with a confused and scared Sam. Every time.

Then Something had changed. Dad had kept moving them around, but statred dumping them more and more often. There come the endless round of nannies, Dean being his only constant. Dean and the fear dad wouldn't come back someday. Dean liked the nannies, most of the time. Sam didn't care much, as long as he had Dean.

As soon as Sam knew how to tie his shoes and dress up by himself. There were less and less nannies, more and more of only the two of them between two of dad's jobs. And Dean becoming more and more wary, his back stiffer, his eyes hardened. Dean no longer trusted people the way he did. Sam whished he never learnt to tie his shoes.

That and the bone weary look on his father every time he went back, the badly concealed wounds. Sam knew, hejust knew there was something they weren't telling him. Something more than all the silences that had always been between Dean and dad; filled with all the things they remembered and Sam couldn't.

Everything wasn't all bleak. He had countless memories of silly bickering, long nights waiting for dad to come back, hussled in one bed, dreaming of a different life, until it became too painful, sticking together against the cruel world.

Dean had been Sam's world all that time, everything else was just passing by.

Then dad took Dean with him. Let Sam behind, alone. First for a few hours at the time. Hours that had Dean come back sore or reaking of burned powder like the firecrackers some school boy had brought once. And the dark feelings Dean's comforting presence had always been able to stale off started to bubble up. Resentment mostly. Agains his father. And Sam wasn't sure what he was the most angry about : that his alone time with dad was changing his petulant caring brother into that jumpy gun wielding child or that his absent dad had found one more way to shun him out of their life.

And Dean never complained. Dad never explained. Sam figured that Dean would rather spend time with dad than deal constantly with his 'pain in the bottom little brother'. But Sam couldn't resent Dean. If faced with the opportunity to spend more time with dad and it meant spending less time with his brother. There were days he might have agreed with the deal too.

He learned why. On his own, by sneaking around. Dean gave him an earfull, then explained and made him promise to pretend he didn't know. Until Dean convinced dad that baby Sammy was ready to be told. It took months. Sam decided Dean didn't want Sam sharing their secret life too much after all.

They grew up, and the darkness spread as Dean spend less and less time with him. He was still looking after Sammy, overly protective as ever. When he was there. And Sam's flaring anger and loneliness became too much. Seeing dad and Dean come back was no longer a relief. Not when facing John's subtil display of pride, Dean's pround retell of how awesome he had been. And the nagging feeling that he would never be deemed enough to fit to become awesome and save the damsell and the day too.

It hadn't been pleasant times; made of poisoning secrets, hurtful truths, blood shed and shouting matches. It was also made of mistakes, sewed wounds and shared meals, soothed heartbreaks and comforting hugs. Mostly long hours of research, alone in the midst of faceless people, in libraries, or shadier places. Dean's hurried calls were the very few rays of sunshine he got. Internet had been a blessing.

When Sam had been grudginly allowed to get in the train, learn how to fight (and not just the few lessons of self defence and blade wielding Dean spared him) he dived into it soaking in the training and tried to make up for lost time. Striving to maybe finally get too one of those covertly proud glance John only gave Dean. Somehow, John didn"t like too much Sam's exponantial progress.

Too bad for him. Sam had figured stopping trying to gain the man's affection would hurt less. Dean's approval, them being together again on the road, in their car, dad on his own in fuck-if-he-cared-where was all he needed. Really.

Most of the time.

Until one more rant between John and him, one more time Dean taking the man's side, one more hunt denied got him unhinged and he fled for the first time. It had been unprepared, half-assed and Dean had found him in a fortnight.

Dean had abandoned their dream of a different life a long time ago, before it eat him alive. Sam hadn't. So he worked his ass off to get to a good college, get settled, with good money. So once the demon who took his whole family away was dealt with (and Sam knew Dean and John didn't need him for that : John had been keeping all the researched on the demon close to his chest and away from Sam his whole life and he never trully trusted Sam on the field) he would be able to offer them a place to be. Maybe a place they would agree to stay. Or at least come back to once in a while.

Sam left. Dean resented him for abandonning them. Sam let his hopes drown. They stopped calling each other.

Until one night, Dean broke into Sam's home and life again. Rest was history wasn't it? All to be shared in books.

That was their whole life, their breakouts, their reunions, their fights and their mutual love. The complicity build upon shared secrets, rare precious memories and knowing glances.

Sam offered everything, the good (a 4th of July), the bad (the day Dean gave Sam some porn VHS to 'make his education'), the worst (the awful feeling of being ripped in halves, missing pieces, the multiple times he lost his brother), the best (the certainty that, despite any bad blood to come between them, Dean would always be there for Sam when needed).

He could feel Michael's attention shift, from one memory to the other, skipping through some, considering others more carefully. But he had no idea what the archangel thought about it all.

They came forward, the hunting dad days, Dean's deal, the desperate run for his life.

The Trickster had Michael curious, and Sam wondered if it was because of the rewriting he had done over those or something else.

Then came the tipping point, the revelation of who the Trickster truly was. And Sam felt Michael ruffle back through all their previous encounters. Re-evaluating his view of the guy, the way Sam had.

Sam had feared Michael would feel betrayed, angry or resentful upon discovering Gabriel's escape. There was only relief, he was alive, sorrow and guilt.

 _"I just want it to be over."_

It cut deep into Michael. Making Sam weep by transference.

Sam knew those feelings. The relief to see his brother, alive and well after two whole years only having news through Bobby (yes he had kept contact with the old man, even helped with some researches in between two craming sessions). It had almost translated physically. God Sam could have kissed him then!

Sam wasn't looking forward delivering the memories Balthazar gave him. He was so furious against Zachariah and Raphael; he feared Michael's reaction to that.

It had been progressive, so slow building he didn't felt it until it was already well on its way. They were blending, their emotions synchronizing. It scared Sam. Soon, he would be simply a part of the monstrous thing that was Michael.

Then he felt a soothing brush.

 _Do not worry little man. You will still be yourself. I'll endeavor to that. I have heard you Samuel William Winchester. Now, is time to right my mistakes._

 _Starting with saving our dear Gabriel._

Together they rose.


	45. Chapter 45 - Voler de Nuit

**Voler de Nuit - Calogero**

(Night Flight)

* * *

 **Nota : heavy rewriting of Sam's part in last chapter.**

* * *

Kneeling on the hard floor, bend in half over his wounded chest, Gabriel was scribbling as fast as he dared. Adding layer inside layer of booby-traps, wards and shields.

After the few days or reprieve Ende had bought them, the Leviathans had found their little team again. Gabriel being unable to move by now, they had to hole up deeper into the cave. Hold the fort, and wait for the cavalry to come. That or The End.

After it became obvious Gabriel couldn't be moved anymore, Ende and his other children had spent the last few days reinforcing their defenses. They hadn't expected the Leviathans to enroll run of the mill monsters to take their protections down. And they were falling fast, much faster than they could replace them.

So Gabriel, unable to use his grace, and Jynx were resorting to trickery and sortilege to buy time for Ende and Sleipnir to enlarge the originally cat-size path toward a secondary room. He could hear behind him the heavy punches of Ende, destabilizing the rock's structure, punctuated by Sleipnir's kicks, making the boulders rumble down. Fenrir and Vali were pacing nervously in the ever shrinking space they had left.

They were trapped. No way out.

So their only chance to live on was to hold, as long as possible. The plan was quite simple, Gabriel remembered having read about that in one of Sam's fantasy novel. They would create an opening just large enough to allow one monster to come forward at a time; each warrior would get a few of them down, one after another, then retreat to let the next in line take the fight.

It should help Fenrir, Vali and Ende to rest as much as possible. Jynx would be able to cast spells from afar.

The problem was Slepnir. Their two options were either to dig large enough to allow the gigantic horse to get through, and let more monsters come at a time, or to keep shallow and..

Gabriel shook the horrifying thought out of his head and focused on the task at hand: get the barrier to last as long as possible, connect his part of the warding with Jynx's, make sure there were no holes, no easy passageway for the invaders.

If they could hold the first barrier long enough.

Oh.. he wished so much for Jörmungandr to be there. There was no way Slepnir could surge forward fast enough to get through the swarm of monsters outside and make it safe and far from there. At least Jör could have whisked him away, somewhere safe.

Gabriel was tired. So tired, of losing people he cared about, of being a coward, of avoiding his responsibilities. If it could have guaranteed his children safety, he would have given himself up by now, or let himself die. But that would mean Sam's death. They were both far too gone to have the slightest chance to make it separately. And Gabriel did hope he could get to see the end of that story.

He added a flourish to his last trap, meant to induce sex frenzy to anyone who would trigger it, non-lethal but prone to cause mayhem. Anything to gain time. Jynx glanced at his work and added her own spin to it : the trap would send everyone around the poor victim into a frenzy to have sex with them.

The rock wall behind them sounded thinner, thin enough they would get through soon. And soon would be the time to make an impossible choice: leave one of their own behind or make their hideout indefensible.

 _Jör. I know you hate me, and will never forgive me for what I did to you, to Hel. But please, this is not about me. This is about your brothers. Please…. Save them._

* * *

Dean was watching the seconds go by on this wristwatch with battered breath. He was as impatient as fearful to see them end the count down. Not knowing what would come out was more nerve wracking now that the time was coming.

He didn't doubt that Sam would find a way to get through Michael, given time. The question was : would 24h hours be enough? Or way too much and Saw was already mush and puddle?

Dean shook his head, trying to shake his thoughts too. Sam asked for twenty four hours, and Dean will give him just that. Five minutes to go. He could just wipe the damn seal away right now, couldn't he?

Still, as he levered the warm body of his little brother on the dusty wooden floor, his hand couldn't do more than brush away strands of hear out his forehead. Smooth them back, carding his fingers through the fluffy locks, like he had done so many times, when they were children and Sam had a nightmare; or when Dean came back from gruesome hunts and relished in Sam's soft innocence.

For once, he let his finger trace down the straight nose, the arch of his brows, the sharp jawline. He might never see his little brother again after all.

Two minutes.

They brushed guiltily over thin lips he knew could spread into the most amazingly cute dimpled smile but hasn't for a long time. Sam has been a shrimp, used to look small and vulnerable for so long that even now into his Sasquatch size, he still managed to look the part.

One minute.

Dean licked his lips. He knew what he wanted. Last chance before that train left the station for good. He couldn't bring himself to do so even.

Thirty seconds.

Dean dipped a corner of his shirt into what was left of the water Castiel brought him. He pondered for a second whether to call him for back up. Then he decided against. Dean, as Michael's intended vessel and his current's vessel's brother, might stay alive.

Castiel, the angel who went against Heaven will and fell, might not have the same odds.

Five seconds.

With trepidation, Dean swept the cloth over Sam's head. The ink had dried, he went a little more forcefully.

He wasn't sure what he expected, maybe a devil springing on him from out his box, or the sluggishness or Meg when waking up from the same ordeal.

Sam simply rose. In a neat, precise, orderly fashion typical of angel's. Dean felt his heart sink; Michael has won. His shoulders slumped, eyes downcast. Sam wasn't there, and suddenly Dean wasn't sure he wanted to stay either. Guess here was the right place.

_ I heard you Dean." He snapped his head up. The voice was precise, carefully inflexed, but different than when riding John. Maybe a little less ... cold. "Everything you said. I heard.

Dean swallowed, he didn't expect to have had a witness to his breakdown. Much less _him_.

_ And Sam did?

_ No, his mind is not wide enough to reach through the wall of this spell you put on us. Do you wish I inform him?

Dean shuffled and sighed in relief. Nope, he didn't want Michael to tell Sam.

_ And, I didn't put the seal. Sam did. I think Gabe made it up.

_ I have seen that too.

 _Seen? So Sam did offer the archangel their whole life on a plate._

_ So… what's the plan now?" Dean wrapped his arms around his body. He felt open and vulnerable, having their life together offered on a plate to someone else.

_ We need to get to Gabriel before our brothers waste away for good.

There were so many questions coursing through his mind, he wasn't sure which one to bring forward first. Was Sam ok? What Michael would do about Lucifer? How in hell were they supposed to enter Purgatory? If it really was the place.

Sam's mouth smirked.

_ Actually, we'll get to Purgatory through Hell. We can't use the door opened by Raphael, it would reap apart the veil between that place and Earth. And for that, I need you to bring Lucifer at the gate of Hell. You know where it is.

_ And you?

Michael moved Sam's eyes upward.

_ I have a quick errand to make. I'll join you at the Gate.

A flip of wings later, Dean was home alone again.

_ Cass? I think I'll need a lift, care to pick me up?

It took a second before another flap of wings was heard and Castiel was standing before him. He looked at Dean's lone figure, a frown on his face.

_ Dean, you should have called me sooner.

Dean shrugged.

_ I wasn't sure what he would have done to you.

_ So, what happened then?

Dean'd rather sell his story only once and said so. Once in Bobby's backyard, he squeamishly sent a prayer to Lucifer: apparently, they would need a guide through Hell.

_ Shall we come in?

Dean shook his head, they were waiting for someone. Castiel threw a puzzled look at Dean, before his eyes flipped to a point behind him and his stance shifted to mighty warrior, blade drawn and all.

_ Well… I feel soo welcomed there.

_ Shut up Lucifer. Cass, it's OK, Michael asked me to bring him in.

The Meg came up and kneel reverently at the Devil's feel, earning Dean and Cass a smug smirk from Lucifer. Dean huffed.

_ Let's all go insi…

He didn't have time to finish that a very eager blonde jumped on him and stole his breath in a searing kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and answered softly. He would never stop missing Sam, nor wondering about what they could have had. But she was what he had, and he did love her.

* * *

They were flying, Earth's bustling life fading away behind them, Heaven coming closer. Thankfully, Michael was going less than full speed, to give Sam some time to adjust. He had the occasion to get used to the sheer onslaught of Michael's mind during their alone time. Or more like : learnt to focus on a part of it and shun out the excess information.

Dealing with the added stimuli of exterior senses was still tricky. But damn, Heaven was beautiful. To humans ears, the hum of chatters made by thousands angels would be nerve wracking. To Michael, and Sam by extension, it was Home.

 _How Gabriel must have felt lonely in his self-imposed exile from Heaven._

A place Sam would have never been allowed to go to if not ridden by an angel.

 _Is that so? I though my brother did say something about that._

 _Gabriel may think what he wants, he's not the one ruling Heaven, or making its rules._

 _And yet, he was right Sam. You do not deserve Hell._

Sam thought that it made Heaven not picky. Since he didn't forward the though, Michael tactfully declined answering. Instead, he announced his arrival with his own brand of high pitched booming voice.

 _Is that why you attached yourself to my brother and pushed yours into that girl's arms?_

 _I do love Gabriel!_

Sam couldn't help but feel all the angels staring, their chatter taking a shocked and angry tinge as they strolled toward some Heavenly version of Hogwart's Great Hall and call for all hands on deck. Michael wasn't joking with 'setting things straight'.

 _I know you do little man. But you do have a twisted mind. Evaluating multiple options and coming up with a way to solve several issues at once._

 _Maybe I do. Maybe I was simply grasping at any chance to avoid Hell._ Sam admitted softly before stepping back and let Michael address his folk.

It was a nice speech the archangel made, nice and short. They didn't have too much time to waste. Basically, he apologized for having withdrawn from them and his duty since The Fall. Not taken enough care of what was happening, let some of his siblings fall so deep into despair they made awful choices and not seeing it. And entirely ignoring the elephant in the room: him wearing the Devil's meatsuit.

He couldn't help but inwardly try to imagine Dean do that kind of mea culpa. It was borderline hilarious.

_ Ion, Zachariah, Bartholomew. Come forward.

Ah! There came the good part. At first Sam had been screaming bloody murder for those who dared hurt his angel. He still has that blood-curling scream in his ear, that flash of terror waking him at night, that awful ach eating at his chest.

Then Michael gave him his own plan for punishing his wayward brothers. Sam had abide; after all, once they were dead, it would be over. The first born idea was much more entertaining. Those suckers despised humanity after all.

The three angels came forward. One thing was true: Zachariah's vessel didn't do honor to his true form. He was much more ugly with his lion lazy head and a bald one.

 _Behave little man._

Michael's warning was tinged with amusement. So Sam didn't pay too much heed to that. He did square more comfortably into his 'seat' to enjoy the show.

_ Zachariah, you are accused of conspiracy against Humanity in order to bring the Apocalypse. You have killed without order and tortured my vessel and his brethren to get his acceptance.

There was a deafening chorus at those words. True, Michael wasn't exempt of blame, but he was the chief.

_ I do admit, I was waiting for the time to face The Fallen. To abide by our Father word. I never advocated to dirty our hands and consort with Hell to actually _make it_ happen. You should be ashamed of yourself. But since I do have a part into this particular mess; I cannot in all fairness punish you for this. Even if I do resent you for the susmentionned torture.

Sam could see them relaxing, thinking the storm was over. He smirked darkly, and somehow it showed on their lips.

_ Now, what do you have to say about the recent murder of Gabriel?

And their tone couldn't be less friendly. The place erupted with surprised exclamations and confused murmurs. Well… Gabriel was supposed to be gone since millennia. So the double news of him having been still alive until now, and his murder was bound to impress.

Sam didn't care, he was focusing on the three in front of them. Watching hawk-like their expressions translated to their vessels figures: the surprised gasps, the not so discreet glances between each other. Whoever busted Balthazar near the cave wasn't one of them: they didn't know they had a witness.

They had been thinking they were safe. They were wrong.

And as expected from busted grunts, they soon denied knowing anything, that they were merely sent to find the disruptive angel. Not who it was, nor what would happen then. Poor excuses in Sam's mind. Zachariah didn't join the lesser angels, probably plotting his evading scheme.

_ Enough!" they barked above the nose. Then waited an instant to let it quiet down. "You think you can change the flow of things? You think you are above the rules, that you can decide who lives and how? You will learn humility.

Ion and Bartholomew paled. Zachariah lost the slightest bit of smugness.

_ Your sentence is to have yours wings and your powers sealed at the exception of you healing abilities. You will be enlisted for the next ten years in the Los Angeles County Hospital as paramedics. To tend to humans wounds. And you will be _watched_.

The mild discomfort rapidly grew into horror on the trio's faces. Serve them good. If Heaven and Hell hadn't meddle with Sam's life, Jessica would still be alive and finishing her internship there. He remembered her telling him about how the trauma bay of this hospital was always overcrowded and under staffed: the best place to learn to take quickly the good decisions and save a patient's life.

It would serve them right to swarm into human misery, and watch from up close people who gave everything, day after day, to help those in need.

Michael called an angel whose name was way too many syllables long, she was agreeing to settle them and watch over their punishment. Apparently, she was one of the few who didn't mind meddling with humans.

Then they called Raphael to come forward. It was kind of amazing that he didn't even try to make an escape while they dealt with his goons. As if he was so sure that Michael wouldn't dare go after _him_.

Well, too bad. Michael could have been reluctant to blame another archangel; but he wasn't and Sam wouldn't have it any other way.

In the meantime, there was Something else that needed to be addressed swiftly.

_ Naomi!

Surprised chatter rose again and the called angel moved forward, perplexed.

_ I have no grudge against you." They reassured her. Well it was an angel, but Naomi felt as much as a her as possible for a gender-less being. "I merely need for you to reinstall Castiel into the host.

Sam wasn't really surprised by the 'bite in a sour lemon' wave she was broadcasting; Castiel was Fallen for what was good reasons in the eyes of most. Still it was bit much.

 _Naomi hates Castiel. But she is somehow the 'angel resource manager'._

 _So it's her job to bring Cass back in the flock. Even if she hates it._

She stiffly made the angel equivalent of a nod then stepped back into the crowd.

_ _Now_ Naomi.

She flew away with angry flaps as they called Raphael forward.

_ Brother.

Raphael looked composed, too composed to be true.

_ How could you! When have you Fallen so low that you would murder one of us merely to... to what exactly?

_ Fulfill the Word. For you sorry ass to get the prize fight you've been waiting for all this time. Give you the opportunity to commit your own fratricide. Because that's what you've been pining for the whole time didn't you?

Michael shook softly their head, that wasn't true.

_ I have never wanted the Apocalypse to happen brother. I merely knew it was 'meant to happen'. Or I thought I knew.

The crowd was holding their proverbial breath, waiting for the outcome of this.

_ 'Meant to be'" he repeated thoughtfully. "I think we all forgot its significance: Fate at its purest. Whatever we do, or not do, should have no impact on what is 'meant to be'.

The silence was Deadly, not even a feathery rustle, as they leisurely swept their gaze over the assembly. Their deep voice rose again, more forcefully.

_Raphael. That you felt the need to meddle and twist humans' fate and destiny to make this happen, that you felt Gabriel's interference as a threat to your carefully led plans are proof that Nothing in there was truly meant to happen. Our Father didn't wish for me and Lucifer to end up Killing each other, or he wouldn't have stopped my arm so long ago. The Apocalypse wasn't Fate. It was a test. A test we all failed.

Waves of awkward shifting, shameful murmurs coursed the audience. Not everyone was agreeing with the claim.

_ Our Father asked us" They raised their voice over the noise "to look over humanity. We assumed it was to 'lead' them according to our views. Now, I know it was to learn from them.

The chatter grew a little more, but Michael went on, undisturbed.

_ For myself, I have closely looked into the lives of Sam and Dean Winchester and leaned more than I have in the past million year. Humans short, fragile life oblige them to grow up and adapt, and fend for themselves in a way none of us ever managed. At the exception maybe of Castiel who was banished for trying, and Gabriel who was murdered for the same reason.

Gabriel had told him that doubt could be fatal for angels. The lack of guidance too much to bear. Michael didn't seem to mind right now. He wanted to make a point.

 _Being thrown into the wild without guidance can be fatal for your kind too. It will need time for my toddler siblings to learn to walk by themselves. I do think we can manage.  
_

There was now a clear rift between the angels; those who had cared enough to Watch humans as they wove their way through life and those, like Uriel, who simply despised humankind. One side was almost ready to accept Michael's new change of heart, the other not so much.

_ Rapahel, brother, I could never apologize enough for not seeing how deep your despair was. For not being there when I was needed. But what you did to Gabriel is unforgivable.

_ He was fated to die anyway." Raphael answered unapologetic.

_ Except that he didn't die when you stabbed him. His connection with Sam prevented it. You threw him to Purgatory. Leviathans' jail!

From the sparse and various reactions to the last bit, not too many angels knew exactly what it meant, some had a vague, horrified idea about the eldest monsters of all. Older than the Archangels themselves. Not one angel was still standing behind Raphael now.

_ For the Eternal Suffering you have fated upon Gabriel, you are condemn to lose your grace and live through a hundred human lives before having the chance to win your powers back.


	46. Chapter 46 - Les murs de poussière

**Les Murs de Poussière (Francis Cabrel)**

Walls of Dust

* * *

Dean let the squeaking door close behind him on his way to the front porch. Both hands on the rail, he inhaled deeply. He could still hear chatter coming from inside.

He has done his job, told them the relevant parts of their "Back to the Future" trip, Michael riding Sammy, apparently mollified by whatever Sam told/showed him, and his plan to get Gabriel back. There wasn't much to discuss, Lucifer, Michael, Cass and Dean would get a stroll through Hell (not that Dean was looking forward to that, but the Hell if he let Michael endanger his little brother and not be there) and bail Gabriel out of Purgatory.

Except that they were all arguing about who would come, who would be left behind. Since they brought him there, Brady hadn't left the panic room, even barred it from the inside. And Ellen had been the only one who managed to get anywhere close to him.

She might not want to be left behind, but she had to. And Lucifer had been adamant that he wouldn't bring Jo along. Something snarky, along the lines of 'not having brought her back to see her get mauled at the first occasion'. Dean had doubts it was all.

The Hell if he knew _what_ that was about.

Then, Lucifer split up to have his own little chat with Meg somewhere far down the yard. Dean reckoned that the archangel would know when their brothers would be back from Heaven and get them to the meeting point quickly.

 _Them_ being whoever _he_ will deem useful.

A dark shimmer caught his eyes and Dean went down the porch to his Baby. She was a bit dusty after all the road she's been subjected to. Still as beautiful as ever.

_ Hi Babe, missed me? The girls treated you right?

He let his hand trail her curves, black metal warm under the sun. He took a calming breath, god he knew he might never come back. Never drive this beauty again, his little brother sitting shotgun. It felt even worse than when Sam had left for Stanford.

How many night he had spent alone holed up in her backseat, not because of lack of money but to reclaim a bit of his Sammy. Memories of better times when they never imagined they could spend more than a day apart.

_ I'm gonna miss you Lady.

Seated on her hood, petting her like he used to do when Gabriel was still around and he got a pet panther, he eyed dejectedly Sam's junk. Bet he would never get to finish his own car. Even if Michael released him, and if Sam wasn't mush by then; there still were the slight problem of Gabriel dying and Sam's soul being slowly eaten away.

At least he knew where mega douche archangel brought his little brother: Cass had been reinstalled into the Host. The look on his face when he had felt his power and hid connection to his family return to him. Cass might have become their family, or as close to as it could be. Obviously, they weren't enough to be his. It stung, just a bit.

Time passed, darker clouds when covering the sun. Dean sighed, he should better get back in, Samichael shouldn't be too long by now. On his way back to earth, Dean's boot caught on the radiator cap-like thingy Gabriel had added to the car's hood.

A second later, Dean had force landed on the ground, his butt taking the brunt of it, and a familiar armful of fur had him pined on the dust. It took Dean a moment to process though… he didn't think the magic would work without the angel to power it. But there she was, purring like the power-horse beast she's always been under his touch.

_ Hey Baby girl, glad to see you." She pawed him, pushed a bit, seemed a slightly mad at not having been called earlier. "Lots have happened sweetheart. Your… daddy disappeared, my Sammy is hosting an angel and I've become boyfriend material.

He chuckled at that, not something he would have ever expected to become.

_ I promise, we'll get Gabe back.

Then Lucifer came front and called the horde. It was time.

_ You think you can pull off jumping your bro' no matter how goading he might be? At least until Gabriel and Sam are safe home?

_ For Gabriel. I will.

Dean nodded, squared his shoulder, met his four-legged shadow's gaze.

_ Ok… She's coming. But I'll need things in the trunk and she's not letting me change her back.

Lucifer let his own gaze down on one of his brother's most recent creation.

_ Aren't you a fine thing. Come here pup.

He crouched and slid his hands in her fur, daring Dean to protest. He didn't.

It was pretty disturbing and amazing to watch. Each stroke into the rough fur sliding of another item: weapons, charms, a forgotten blanket, Dean's box of tapes, a used condom so old it was nothing more than crackling dried latex, holed out socks, the grenade launcher they never found use for. Lucifer discarded most of it, handed Dean a back pack, first aid kit, a machete. He kept the now empty Colt.

"Guns not gonna help where we go, too many things on the way, not enough cartridge." Dean still held on his own pearl handled gun, just in case, and Sam's knife despite Meg's snort.

There was not even a heartbeat between Lucifer landing a last item on the soil and them suddenly standing in an unpleasantly familiar cemetery. The place where he had last seen his father.

/

They were flying above Earth, watching a woman and a man lying side by side panting in afterglow. Sweat was shining over their bodies, in the warm evening. They only stayed long enough to make sure the upcoming child was actually in the making.

Then Michael took flight again, this was settled, it was time to get Gabriel back now.

 _I have to ask. Why chose this particular time and place?_

Sam inwardly shrugged, he did not have command of his body right now.

 _From what I know, Pre-antique Crete is quite a peaceful and people-respecting place in time._

He heard a wall crumbling chuckle coming from his own chest.

 _I know that little man. What I'm wondering is why you chose an easy place for Raphael after what he did._

 _He hates us enough as it is. No reason to make him even angrier by choosing him a wrecked life._

Michael hummed at this but made no comment and muted whatever he could feel so Sam couldn't really catch on. The dizzy spell was fading as they neared their destined point in time and slowed down.

They didn't land in the center of the circle where the others were. Both Sam and Michael felt the need to stall a bit before having to face their brothers again. Sam wasn't sure how long it would take Dean to forgive him for leaving him behind again.

And it was nothing compared to the beef between the archangels.

So they walked in, quickly dragging attention from the troop anyway. Apparently, the first to spot them, or acknowledge them, was a fierce bundle of goldish light, doubled as a powerful pack of taut muscle and black fur running at them. It took almost too long for Sam to recognize Baby and warn Michael. He barely had time to pull back their armed hand before the beast knocked them down, licking their face in stride.

He only pulled the trick because Michael hadn't seen it coming, though.

Guess it would make sense she were part of the rescue team. Sam was so happy not only to bask in her warmth but also in the feel of Gabriel emanating from her. He didn't realize they were having more company. Michael had of course, it was his growing restlessness that brought his attention back up.

His mind stuttered, and would he have control of his body, he would probably be gagging or retching right now. It was… there was no name to such foulness.

When Gabriel was molten gold, Raphael muddled water and Michael Iron edged windy clouds, Lucifer was all cut diamond. As shiny, cold and hard as the precious stone. But people, enthralled by the jewel's shine tended to forget that uncut diamonds looked as dark as charcoal. Simply cause they had exactly the same compound : pure carbon. And that was where the darkness in Lucifer lied.

Whatever had tainted him. It was no taint really, it was how diamonds would rot if it were possible. And the stench, the look of those black vines spreading through his being were unbearable.

Sam could now understand why angels recoiled from him, if he had the same kind of foulness woven into his soul.

 _What could possibly do that to an archangel? What could have this much power?_

 _Destruction._ " Michael answered somberly. " _If you call our Father 'The Light of Creation'. Then it was 'The Darkness of Destruction that did it to him._

 _Like… a mother of sort?_

Sam remembered the weird look Gabriel had given him when he had asked. Michael snorted as if the mere idea was ridiculous and went back to his staring contest with his brother. Or what must pass as a staring contest from outsider. He couldn't fell it all, because he couldn't handle it, but the high pitched buzzing trading back and forth was tell enough that they were communicating. From what he felt, it was a strained but somewhat civil conversation. No heartfelt reconciliation, but no all out war. That was… encouraging. He guessed.

_Sorry to interrupt but…I can't believe I'm saying it… Gabriel's still on borrowed time. You mind reminiscing the good old times later?

_ He is the only reason I'm here anyway." Lucifer shrugged. It was blatant lie, but none of them pointed it out. It really wasn't time.

They returned to the two humans and the lone angel, flanked with Baby, waiting huddled near the Gate. They all seemed very self-conscious about being so near to two of the most ancient beings in the Universe. Meg was strolling around, unbothered as ever. The stance and look in Dean's eyes when they happened to cross gaze broke Sam's heart.

For all his brother knew, there might be noting of Sam left in his body. He yearned to reach to him. And suddenly staggered, Michael had retreated, leaving him free reign again, for a time.

_ Dean…" Talking felt weird despite the little time since he got a roommate.

It took a second, and Sam's best earnest face, for Dean to catch-up and grab his brother for a bone crushing hug.

_ Sammy you ok?" Dean pulled back reluctantly, they had witnesses for Christ' sake.

_ A little overwhelmed, but we… reached an understanding. It's OK Dean. Really.

_ You're not gonna stay. Are you?

Sam shook his head, feeling growingly guilty for the turmoil he was putting his big brother through. But right now, Michael was better equipped for the fight; Sam didn't have access to the archangel's power and grace. He did have awareness of his surrounding and said so. Sam gave a brief hug to Bobby and Castiel, then let his host take over again.

Lucifer took the Colt and opened the Gate, spreading his tattered wings to prevent anymore demonic escape. From the corner of his eyes and Michael's perception, Sam could see Dean shiver at the idea of entering Hell again, square his shoulders and come forward with a purposeful stride.

He felt pride, like always.

They were closing the doors behind them when a streak of light flashed through. A winged steak of light with an awful accent and the mortal appearance of a former stripper.

_ Come on guys, you throwing a party without me?

Castiel was the first one to come to him with an exclamation. His gravely human voice rumbling around the tunnels.

_ Balthazar! Why did you come? Weren't you hiding from the Host?

_ Well I was. Until I heard our leader of all clear you and cast out the angels who came after Gabriel. I figured I should be safe.

He took a theatric look around the place and pointed at his friend.

_ And then you decide to dive back into the pit. So I'm here.

Lucifer crossed his arms, and raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the pesky angel. He and Castiel were currently arguing about whether he should stay or go back to Heaven. "I have been given a mission Castiel! I might have not always lived up to it. But not today."

_ Who's that? Is he for real?

Michael waved one of Sam's giant paw airily with a matching flip of one wing. Gabriel, was his only answer as he bushed by his little brother down to the path to the pit.

Dean followed first, Bobby and Baby at his sides. Meg and the angels were closing the march.

_ Four angels, two humans, a magic panther and a demon go down to Hell. I can't imagine that joke ending well.

He shook his head, eyes on Sam's wide, much too ramrod straight, back leading them all down the depths of Hell, to Purgatory.

* * *

Transition chapter, done.


	47. Chapter 47 - Marie

**Marie - Johnny Halliday**

Mary

* * *

As soon as Lucifer opened the door, Dean felt assaulted by the distinctive stench of Hell. Big H. That way too familiar mix of sulfur, blood and pain. He faltered. The memories came back rushing. Alistair, the pain, the terror of his victims, that awful self-righteous feeling he had when being the torturer. Because if they were there, it was because they deserved it, didn't they?

He had traded his life for his brother's, it wasn't selfish like wishing for money or a career.

Maybe it was, in the end. It was before Ruby, the demon blood, freeing Lucifer. Sam must have been safe and happy in Heaven; and Dean had dragged him back for very selfish reasons: he couldn't live without Sammy. Bear the fact that his little brother had died because of him.

All that was in the past, and should stay there. Time to move forward.

Dean squared his shoulders and went on, Baby's tail swatting gently his calf. Nothing else to do by now. They would find and save Gabriel, with him they would save Sam and all will be finally fine.

Well… he was only kidding himself.

* * *

The trek through Hell was disturbingly anticlimactic; with Lucifer leading them no demon ever dared cross their path. And thankfully, they never came close to the racks. It was bad enough that Sam and Bobby had to see any part of Hell, those thousands rows of holding cells filled with moans, cries and pleas for help, they were currently passing by for example. Dean would never want them to witness what he had personally been through.

Castiel only, knew since Alistair died. And it was very well as it was.

Dean spared a glance at his angelic friend; Cass seemed to glow in this shady environment. Had caught Dean's movement or fleeting though, Castiel turned his head and held his gaze for a few seconds. He understood. That made Dean feel slightly better.

_ Cass… Do you think there is anything that could be done…?

He didn't feel like elaborating. He didn't have much hope either. So he wasn't surprised to see his friend shake his head sadly.

Dean groaned as it seemed their little conversation had dragged the devil's attention.

_ Who?

Castiel didn't answer verbally but the unfocussed look on Lucifer's vessel gave it away, he was already searching for her. Bella Talbot, who made a deal to get rid of the monster that was her father. She was a nasty piece of work, but to say she deserved this… for all eternity?

No kidding : no one deserved Hell for ever.

_ It wasn't meant to." Sam's voice cut through with Michael's tone. "Hell was supposed to be the place to purify the wicked souls, make them atone for their sins, before they got entrance to Heaven. Until it became an eternal prison.

_ And it will become that again if we can make it. About the woman you were worried about. You know well how difficult it is to return to life after any length of time here. I assure you, you do not want to inflict that on her soul. When we will be able to set things in order, she will be released with the others redeemed souls. In the meanwhile… Meg. You know what you have to do.

_ And what would it be?" Bobby asked gruffly before Dean had time to.

_ Become Queen of Hell." She preened. Then turned toward Castiel and smooched him leisurely. "This is good bye mighty Unicorn. It has been nice while it lasted."

Whit that she left.

_ Does that mean the minx gets to 'put things straight' while we go to war against the big bad meanies of Purgatory?

Lucifer gave Bobby a Look. Yes, that was it, provided they all came back and Lucifer could reclaim his throne again. It was shilling to go against things even the Archangels weren't sure to be able to defeat, or get away from.

It didn't bode well for Gabriel's life.

_ He is still alive, although vanning quickly." Assured Michael.

* * *

Their next stop was actually a detour: somehow, Michael had sniffed, for lack of a better word, something familiar to him.

 _I do hope it's not too far. Dean and Bobby need to rest. They are just human, and we've been walking for hours._

It hadn't crossed Michael's mind. Actually, neither really knew how long since they had crossed the Gates of Hell. Sam simply knew his brother and surrogate father that well: the strain at the corner of Dean's eyes as he fought fatigue, the slight tilt of his swagger, his newfound habit to brush his fingers on the panther's fur. Probably to remind himself that he was still alive this time, and safe. Bobby was sponging his eyebrows more and more often squaring his shoulders under the weight of his backpack.

It was more than time to make a break. Thankfully, whatever the archangel was searching for wasn't stored much further. Stored was the word, since they ended up cramming into a room full of crates and shelves, a mess of organized knick-knacks apparently all of a certain value and of supernatural nature.

As Dean and Bobby slouched against a wall and shared some of the provisions the elder had brought; Michael went straight for a long golden spear with Enochian engravings.

_ Well, if it isn't the embodiment of brotherly love." Lucifer drawled upon seeing the thing. "I thought it was truce, looks like you ultimately have never let go of your hatred toward me.

_ I've never hated you brother. After you had one more tantrum and started to destroy Father's last creation, I was too disappointed to hate you. But this…" He held the spare and admired its work in the lightning. "Is not for you. Not today.

They went to kneel before Dean and handed him the weapon.

_ I have no idea how much use it might be against the Leviathans, it was created after Father locked them up into Purgatory. It should at least be able to harm them if needed. And if Lucifer is not holding up his end of the bargain and I'm not there to deal with it. This can kill him.

Dean nodded, a little too bleakly for Sam's liking.

_ And if you don't give me my brother back, it can put you down too, does it?

_ Yes.

_ Good." His hand gripped the spear, a look Sam did not dare to decipher crossing his features.

It was hard, to be so close and yet unable to reach his brother. He knew that Michael would let him if he asked. But it would be probably even more painful, for both.

So Sam stayed hidden and watched as Dean and Bobby shared meal, rested and discussed with Castiel. Balthazar was strolling around the place with curiosity.

Then they took leave through more rows of cells and finally to the small, well-hidden back door to Purgatory.

Dean didn't know what he expected of Monster Land. Probably something dreary, even worse than Hell itself. He certainly did not imagine they would end up in some woods. Light, airy, big trees, plain woods. He was about to ask whether they took the right door before realizing: it was day, and there was nothing in the sky, no clouds, no sun. The woods were eerily silent.

He got what Sam had meant when he said the place smelled ancient. There was something pure and feral to the place.

He felt Baby press against his leg, growling. Her instincts probably catching on some scent of danger.

The angels were all turning toward the same direction, probably hearing something his human senses couldn't.

_ At least, there, we will have room to fly. We don't have much time left.

* * *

They had lost Sleipnir.

 _He_ had lost Sleipnir.

Their barriers hadn't held long enough to carve a path able to let him get through. His terrified whinnies were still resonating in his ears covered by the clamor of the howling crowd. Then they stopped, abruptly.

Then the long haul started. Each children taking turn to hold off the monsters getting through the narrow opening. They had designed the plan to spare their strength as much as possible, but…

It was lasting too long. Fenrir was on three legs now, and Vali never was very enduring for starters. Even Ende was starting to show signs of fatigue. She might have angelic grace, and strength but she wasn't an angel and didn't have their limitless endurance.

Vali's howl of pain was the last straw, his flank stained with blood and sporting a wide gash. Gabriel couldn't take it anymore; he couldn't let anymore of his children suffer and die for him. He reached out, tried to find some still intact parts of his grace to heal his wounded child.

He could feel Ende's disapproving stare on him, she was too busy and worn out to say her piece though. He knew he was taking chances. He could do more harm than good if not careful.

Gabriel was trying to think, fast. He could seal the opening to make sure the monsters wouldn't get them. It would also shut their only escape route. The cave they were in other way out couldn't fit a rabbit, and they were all too worn out to dig once more through the rock.

They had no way out, no way to survive.

Just hold on and hope.

Hope was coming in short stock.

So Gabriel healed his remaining children the best he could and took place at the front, spreading what was left of his wings to shield them and started to throw punches. He never was much of a brawler but he had angelic strength with him. It was straining both his body and grace, he wouldn't last long but he'd rather blow up into their assailants faces than his kids.

He went on, and on, punching countless faces full of teeth, clawed hands and growling masses. He couldn't smite them, but he could dislocate shoulders and rip out rib-cages, that was still within the range of his abilities.

Rage filled, covered in slippery blood, Gabriel barely registered when the swarm shifted. Until he felt it; the dread, the booming tension. Something terrible was coming.

Fast.

He steeled himself for more. He was ready.

To die if needed. For once in his life, he would stand up, to protect his kids.

* * *

Lucifer had been told about Gabriel's assassination attempt. He knew he was hurt, but it was nothing compared to _feeling_ it.

And that he _did_.

From the instant he stepped into Purgatory, he felt and heard the screams of Gabriel's tormented grace, his despair. A glance toward his elder brother gave away that it was even worse for him. Sam's soul bond with their younger sibling was rekindling and weighting them down.

Himself was seething with rage. He could feel the dark goo sprawling and slithering in the same direction his little brother's screams were coming from.

_ Let's go!

Michael caught his arm.

_ We need to find another plan.

They had been planning for the two archangels to drag the Leviathans away from their little brother long enough so Castiel and Balthazar could bring him out of that awful place. They hadn't realized that Gabriel would be too weakened, too fragile, for that kind of snatch and go.

Lucifer couldn't, for the life of him, wait. And it looked like he wasn't the only one: Dean looked about to explode.

_ We can't wait. And it's pretty obvious now that we can't plan anything before we get there and know what the fuck is going on. And if Sam were still here, he would say the same!

The archangel had no idea what Sam would say or not. But he was all in. So he offered his hand to the Winchester boy. And the kid took it, eyes burning with determination.

A zipping sound resonated as they flew off, Baby in tow. Lucifer smirked, his restrains had given way. It was war.

Sam's heart sank when he saw his brother get swept away and urged Michael to follow. He wasn't too sure Lucifer would have enough of his mind to remember that Dean was only human. Hence fragile in regard of what an archangel could do.

He urged Michael to follow, there was no way he was going to let his brother out of his sight. They felt Castiel and Balthazar follow suite, Bobby in tow.

They hadn't lost too much time but Lucifer was already wreaking havoc around the place. Even the Leviathans were standing at a prudent distance facing his wrath. For now. And what a wrath it was.

Waves of coldness were rolling out of Lucifer's diamond like wings; freezing everything alive around him. Luckily, Dean still had had the presence of mind to stay away but he was still too close. A glance later, Castiel had his human charge away from the freeze zone.

It was satisfying to watch all those monsters scatter to vainly try to escape Lucifer's reach. Still, the Leviathans wouldn't stand by for too long. Sam could feel Michael's wheels turning full blast. It was too much for him to get everything, but he had the gist of it.

 _Little man…_

 _Go. I've got it._

They shout out for the Morning Star. And Sam felt Michael leave him, and a huge portion of his grace, behind.

Lucifer had quite literally wiped the floor already. So when Michael, searing light in the bleak sky, took off, the Leviathans and Lucifer in tow. Sam staggered a bit, feeling uneasy now that he was alone again in his own head.

They had things to do. Namely get rid of the remaining monsters and get Gabriel the Hell out of doge. Sam, Michael's blade in hand, lurched forward, followed by the others.

It was a swift cleaning up. Apparently the Boss of the place had coerced the locals into the assault and not many of the remaining ones were too keen on dying there, slaughtered by a couple of very pissed angels, a wild beast, and a trio of Hunters.

When Sam finally got in the cave the monsters were attacking, he was not prepared for the sight he was facing now. Gabriel was covered in blood, the wildest look in his eyes, ready to strike at anything that would come his way. Sam held up his hands and signaled Dean to go back.

_ Gab'. It's me. I'm sorry it took so long. But I'm here now, you're safe. Gabriel. Please.

He moved forward, slowly, eyeing his lover's heavy breath, taunt stance, for any indication of where his mind was going. He opened his arms, and his heart, wide.

 _Gabriel…_


	48. Chapter 48 - Une seule vie

**Une seule Vie - De Palma**

(Only one life)

* * *

It felt exhilarating.

To be able to stretch his wings and powers wide, without the claustrophobic feeling of the Cage or Hell corridors. Nor the limitations imposed by Gabriel's bracelets.

To fight alongside his brother and not against him for a change. That was what they had been made for after all: fight, against the things that threatened Creation.

Because God wasn't made to destroy but to create, he had given them life to fend off the Ever Hungry and the Darkness. Those had been good times mostly; things only went awry once they got out of bad things to fight and had to turn into babysitters for the Fledglings, then the Humans.

They weren't made for that kind of task. And given Michael's grace vibrant song; simple, honest fight had been missed there too.

Despite the falls-out, the Cage and so much time, they fell into steps easily. Holding each other's back, throwing punches and bolts of grace at their Father's grotesque creations. Michael still had his blade but Lucifer was weaponless. Didn't mean he was harmless, though. But they were only two and keeping the whole bunch of Leviathans occupied was proving challenging.

" _Do tell me that you and the scheming little bitch have some plan to hold them all long enough for the kids to get Gabriel out._

Michael left a long gash into one of the Beasts and swiped two of them with a large wing before answering.

_ Samuel is the reason why I am fighting besides you and not against. Even _you_ could show respect sometimes.

Lucifer shrugged, Sam really had been a pain in his ass. And to so forcefully deny him his consent just to hand it to Michael… Sam was supposed to be his! Unconcerned by his younger brother's inner struggle, Michael went on.

" _The plan is quite simple actually: there is no plan besides trying to keep those at bay long enough to let Castiel and Balthazar get our brother out of this place._

The leader of the monsters managed to use Lucifer's bafflement to sneak inside his personal space and try to nibble at his grace. Only to get thrown back by one of Michael's clawed hand.

" _When have you become so reckless brother! This is like the worst plan since Daddy decided to tie the key to me._ Lucifer ranted as he blasted two lesser beings away.

" _Sorry, we simply didn't have much time to draw in details. If we could access the Cage from here…_

" _What would it do?_ Lucifer asked cautiously, a shudder coursing his tainted grace.

" _Gabriel's plan to keep the monsters out of his safe-hole is as much effective when you want to keep them_ in _. At least, we would have only one door to guard. And Gabriel's companions will be only safe if the Leviathans are sealed away, even after we leave._

Lucifer didn't like that plan in the slightest, understandably he didn't want to get anywhere near the Cage again.

Not that the place was bad in itself despite it being basically a prison. But being there alone for millennia? Cut off the Host, his family and everything that was his life, cut out of Life itself. It had been maddening.

And there was the little problem of how the Hell Michael would open it in the first place _while_ fighting two against three dozens.

Anyway, it was the only plan they had. To save Gabriel.

Well… he might be the only one worth it. The only one who in the end had decided he wanted his family whole, including him, and risk his own life to achieve that.

" _Ok. Your little trip into Sammy's head has driven you nuts. Your plan is madness, but I'll follow through._

" _Like said, I have no plan, I can't access the Cage from there, and driving them to Hell won't help._

_ We might be able to help you.

The voice came from everywhere at once and nowhere at the same time. It was… slippery and didn't feel right. He exchanged a dubious look with Michael. Who or what could that newcomer be?

* * *

Gabriel was reeling.

Would the Nightmare ever end? After the Leviathans somehow managed to coerce Eve's children into hunting them down, lead the assault for who knew how long, wearing the few survivors to the ground. After feeling Lucifer come down onto him with such wrath that he could still feel his freezing grace crawl under his skin.

Facing _this_!

He was too exhausted, too torn to be able to face it.

It was Sam, and it was Michael. It was the most atrocious thing Gabriel ever imagined.

Worse, he could have never imagined that Michael could have somehow found the way to ride Sam and go after his wayward sibling. What atrocities he might have inflicted on the boys to get that result? How wrong had they been to imagine Michael could be reasoned if he were to stoop that low?

_ Gabriel…

He growled, fists clenching. How dare He! Use that beloved sweet face to con him that way!

The youngest archangel was ready to strike at the tall figure in front of him when a dark golden blur got past Michael and jumped on him and pinned him to the ground to playfully lick his face.

It was pure instinct that prevented Gabriel to crush the thing into dust. It was his own grace giving it life. Suddenly he recognized the beast: Dean's car soul form.

_ Baby?

She purred as he tentatively scratched her big head. It was a calming sound, diming the rush of fight and weariness from his senses. It slowly occurred to the archangel that the sounds of fight outside had considerably subsided, and he could now feel Castiel and Balthazar's grace. Hear their shouts, mingled with the human voices of the Bobby man and Dean.

He threw a look at the thing still standing there.

_ I promised you. Remember? I promised never to give up on you.

It was Sam, truly. For some reason with Michael's grace in him, but it was just his Sammy there. He came. His beautiful, caring, infuriating lover had come. Gabriel sobbed in relief. Maybe the nightmare would have an end.

Next thing he knew, he was warmly embraced by a pair of strong familiar arms. Engulfed into Sam's body and scent. Not caring about all the blood and gore they were both covered with they kissed like two drowning men holding on their bottle of oxygen.

It came back slowly, sluggish and raw. Fine tendrils of what few grace Gabriel had left reaching out to Sam's soul twining them back together. The feeling was so pure and long missed it made tremors course his whole body. And obviously that worried Sam.

_ You…" Sam started, then shook his head mid-sentence. It was glaring that Gabriel was nowhere near ok. "Holding up?

_ Not really. But kiddo you sure feel good. Ya know I can't get enough of your handsy personality." He tried for a mix of snarky and sexy and according to Sam's fond smile it fell barely short of desperate.

Gabriel let himself melt a little longer in Sam's hug, idly picking sleek gore out of his jacket. Filthy much… The Trickster in him liked very much when his Sammy was filthy, but only the sexy kind.

_ …IloveyouIloveyouI'msorryIloveyou…

It had started as a barely whispered breath, and inflated until it became a mantra as Sam rocked them back and forth. Then he froze.

Lulled by the soft motion, Gabriel took some time to get what had his human suddenly grab the axe he had dropped by his side. When he turned back in Sam's overly protective arms it was to see his children step gingerly out of their hideout.

A sad smile spread on his face upon watching his remaining children, the ones he managed to save, carefully make their way to the light.

_ Sammy, meet Fenrir, Vali, Jinx and…" He frowned when realizing Mithra/Ende wasn't there. "Kids, meet Sam Winchester. And Baby.

He added the last part as the beast pawed carefully toward the two big wolves in the room. She glanced back at his upon hearing her name the moved forward again, sniffed each and scouted back to the entrance as footsteps were being heard.

_ All dandy in there?" Came in a gravelly voice as Dean stepped in. Gabriel could feel Sam nod from behind him. He gave a smile of his own; Dean really deserved his pet-name sometimes but he always found a way to make himself likable.

_ Hya Dean-o. Came for tourism or business?

_ Business. And sorry to interrupt, but we should get going; we can't tell how long your brothers will be able to keep the Leviathans away from our escape route.

Speaking of his brothers…

_ Sammy… you've got something to tell me?

Nope: No way those innocent puppy eyes were gonna work on him. Not now.

_ About Michael maybe?" He couldn't help but grow slightly angry imagining how this could have happened. And Sam reluctance to answer didn't bode well.

_ Why asking Gab, you know it? You must be able to feel it, that I said yes… to Michael.

_ What I want to know is how the hell did he convince you of that.

Dean snorted from his stand, still near the entrance. Sam dared to look even more sheepish.

_ Not easily, your brother is difficult to reach. As you already must have surmised, our trip in the past was the only thing we could think of to get to him. _I_ convinced him to take me instead of Dean.

Gabriel couldn't believe what he was hearing. Sam did?

_ Why…

_ We needed his help to get you back, and couldn't risk him getting too comfortable into his destined host. Besides Dean and him are way too similar, no way it would have worked. Stubborn asses and all….

_ It couldn't have worked. It shouldn't have worked…" Gabriel shook his head. Saw was Lucifer's vessel, that made him strong enough to contain almost any other angel, but as Luci was about twice as powerful as Gabriel, Michael as the Firstborn was even stronger. And that was putting aside the fact that Sam had been prep'ed to handle the Devil's cold darkness, not Michael's burning fire.

His trouble must have been visible, even from afar, because it was Dean who spoke up first.

_ If you wonder how, try asking him for how long Sam has been planning this little stunt.

Sam winced strongly at those icy words; his arms holding Gabriel's worn body a little tighter albeit still carefully. He could feel Michael's grace sweep from Sam and sooth his aching body and tattered, slightly chewed on, wings.

_ Since day one." Dean dropped as Sam didn't seem in a hurry to answer.

_ Dean, why don't we save it for latter, in a safer place? You said yourself we should get going.

He almost managed not to sound pleading. Almost. And that was just this tiny bit of whining that got Gabriel urging Dean to go on.

_ This fucker," Dean pointed angrily at his brother. "was planning to say yes to Michael ever since he talked to you.

Gabriel's blood ran cold. Then hot with anger. He didn't even need to turn around, thunder in his eyes, to let Sam know how goddam furious he was.

_ As if I could have planned this from so long ago. Too many variables I couldn't have thought about. I'm not _that_ smart!

_So do tell me that this wasn't what you had in mind when you asked me to let you take my burden?!

Dean was angrily shouting in the middle of a cave, with a battle still raging outside, a bunch of baffled pagans gods looking at him like he grew a couple more heads and a nervous black panther circling the place unable to find the threat that made her master on edge. And he didn't give a fuck. Sam, still sharing his personal space with his angelic lover despite his obvious ire, was softly standing his ground like a man confident in his good right.

_ I… had considered the option. But, Dean, do I need to remind you that I merely asked you to let me help you with what I could do. It wasn't a promise, it wasn't a deal. Neither of us realized it at the time but you ironclad it.

_ What? How the hell? Don't you dare turn that shit on me! You swore not to leave me behind and you already knew you would! Maybe for good!

But Sam was right. After both Gabriel and Cass made those comments about their 'wedding'; Dean had thought hard, rewinding what had happened that night.

Any contract, wedding, bonding, or else; it all worked the same way. First the parties agreed to commit, " I promise you I won't ever walk away from you," then they decided on the terms of the contract "it's taking the roles that fit us most: I take the blow, you retaliate" , and finally sealed it "And, yes Dean, I'll be your yin, if that's what you want ".

Winchester luck made sure that a few random promises counted in the eye of whoever sealed the thing for them.

Sam sighed heavily then went to his brother. He tried to reach him but Dean avoided his hand and went further, near the entrance of the cave, hands angrily stuffed in his pocket. Sam's next sigh was of frustration.

_ I did, Dean. I already knew that day that I couldn't keep it. Not during our lifetime at least. But now Dean. We need to get going, not fighting. Lucifer and Michael won't hold eternally against the Leviathans. And…

Dean looked up to Sam's oversharing face when he paused in his speech.

_ Dean, Gabriel and I won't last long either, not there. Not without help.

Dean shoulders slumped, the bracelet rubbed against his jacket. Sam didn't need to spell it for him. If him and Gabriel unraveled fully, there would be no after, they would both disappear from the world, for good.

_ Let's go. But this is not the end of it Sam." He warned before finding himself nose to nose with a giant horse.

_ Sleipnir!" Gabriel shouted happily, soon followed by the others pagans.

 _Mother. Brothers, I'm glad to see you still well. Arem… Which one is your human?_

It was a sigh to witness the tiny archangel hug the ginormous beast.

_ How… baby of mine, how did you?

 _Jör came by. Took me out of there._

_ So he did come? Where is he?

 _Not sure, he took Mithra with him._

Gabriel nodded somberly.

_ You mind giving us a lift out of here?" The horse shook his head, of course not. "And for the record. The tall one is mine.

 _You always were a climber._ The horse joked, making Sam blush and Dean snort.

* * *

It was hard not to stare.

Really.

As archangels, their true form was huge, like continent huge. One of the reasons the flock of Leviathans hasn't managed to scatter yet.

But that frigging snake? It's head only was as huge as a small country, and the rest of its body was hidden in darkness.

_ What the Hell are you?

_ My name is Jörmungandr, the Snake World. Son of Loki. I get you know him better by the name of Gabriel. And this is Mithra, god(dess) of Secrets and Hidden Things.

It was only then that Lucifer noticed the prism of grace on the beast, and the fact that it was a sentient being. Lucifer wondered what he little brother _hadn't_ done during his time out. Apparently, Gabriel has been a little more than mischievous since he left.

" _Michael?_

His brother nodded to him, Michael would take care of the Leviathans while Lucifer would converse with the creatures.

Another hole of blackness opened and a scaly tail surged out of it, sweeping the voracious beasts like they were puppets. Their bites seemed like bee stings on the gigantic snake. It was the being of grace that came to Lucifer while Jörmungandr launched into battle.

The plan was actually quite simple. The Snake-World was a dimensions traveler; meaning he could open holes between places. And now that the seals were unlocked, it included the place where the Cage was.

So… now they had access to the Cage. All they needed to find were a way to lure the things in, and to lock it. Great. Worst rescue ever.

 _Michael. Lucifer. We got Gabriel. He's not well enough to fly him to the backdoor to Hell. So, we'll… ride to there._

Sam's voice sounded a bit insecure at the end of his prayer. Lucifer snorted, since their ride couldn't be anything mechanic (even if Baby were to decide to change back, there were no road there) it must be some kind of Horse-ride. And Sammy didn't seem too fine with that. Too bad he would miss Kansas boy's first rodeo.

_ Do you have a way to keep them here?

_ I do." The being that was introduced as Mithra answered sober. He waited, but she seemed uninclined to forward more.

" _Michael, the snake says he can open a rift to the Cage, and the grace-chick that she can seal it back. Now: how do we lure those things into there?_

Lucifer huffed and ripped two of the leech from his brother's back. Couldn't have Daddy dearest make them frigging _killable_? Other that when one of them ate one other, of course. He meant… brr… their Father really did come up with the weirdest things at time. Maybe he was glad the Sister destroyed most of His earlier creations if they were all of the Leviathan's caliber.

Their bites were small considering, but it started to take its toll; make small lasting dents into their beings.

" _I see only one way._

If Michael had a human body, he would be squaring his shoulders. Lucifer didn't like that stance one bit.

" _We drag them there, by the collar if needed._

Lucifer slumped… of course…

* * *

One chapter left then the epilogue. Man it's hard to say goodbye.


	49. Chapter 49 - Comateen

**Comateen - Indochine**

* * *

Slepinir wasn't big enough to carry more than three of them, so it had been just Jynx, Sam and Gabriel on his back. Dean got to mount Fenrir and, after a very long stream of curses, Bobby ended onto Vali's back. And ain't that weird. His hands gripping the giant wolf's fur, is nose full of it. Good he wasn't bad as rodeo, 'cause the beast sure was a rocky mount. They were gobbling miles more quickly than he could ever have imagined.

Dean couldn't see them but he knew Castiel and Balthazar were flying around, vigilant, just in case.

Baby, despite being much smaller than Loki's children, was following easily. He could see her leaping right behind Fenrir's shoulder when turning his head. Dean just tried not to do it too often, it didn't sit well with his balance. So he held onto Fenrir's fur and let the giant wolf follow his nose to their exit.

Nothing much more to do now, he didn't want to think about the fact that once they reach Earth, he might lose Sam.

* * *

Michael grabbed two more Leviathants to throw them into the Cage and stared at the hole. Lucifer was near it, preventing the trapped beasts to get back out. Jörmungandr was circling them and preventing the remaining one's escape.

Mithra, otherwise named Ende was engraving the Cage with new streams of sigils. It was good teamwork, Michael just had to grab and throw.

But it was getting more and more difficult for his brother to keep the door, too much power surging through and pushing. A glance toward the Entity Gabriel had created told him she was ready, whatever she was doing. They needed to end it quick. He grabbed two more and engulfed the last into his wings and pushed forward.

Michael realized his mistake too late. In his hast to throw the last of the Leviathans into the Cage, he clipped Lucifer too and threw the whole package through.

His brother's betrayed scream felt like a million shards of cutting grace piercing his being. He hadn't meant to! He didn't really need to think long to make his choice. Not this time.

_Jörmungandr, I'm going in. Keep the hole open as long as you can.

He didn't give the Pagan semi-god time to answer and plunged forward. He had made the mistake to let his brother down once. Now that they were barely reconnecting, he was not losing him again this soon!

He had built the Cage wide, knowing Lucifer would be fated to stay in there for Millions Years, but not that wide. The place was crowded, swarming with black essence. No wonder that Lucifer had so much trouble containing them; the Cage was almost bursting out.

With a shudder, Michael could already see some of them starting to turn on others and eat them. It was disgusting. Profoundly disturbing on so many levels.

He tried to punch his way through to reach Lucifer. It didn't, wouldn't, work. Not without letting the Leviathans out. There were too many creatures doing their best to keep them apart, pushing the Morning star further down.

" _Lucifer… Brother I'm sorry. I don't know how to do this._

" _We can't._ Came the soft answer. " _And the Snake won't hold much longer. Either we let them out, or I stay too._

" _Brother…_ Michael let all his worries and regrets through the simple word. His wings wildly dislodged a couple of beasts trying to chew on him.

" _Don't you forget. I'm the Devil, master of Lies. I'll find a way to make them turn on each other. I'm still not sure if I'll keep the last one as a pet._

Michael looked again, turning them on each other shouldn't be that difficult; at least for now. It might become a different gig when they will be less crowded.

" _Bye Brother, see you at the end of the world, the real one this time. I enjoyed that last dance._

Michael was already half-way through the hole when Sam's words and memories came back haunting him. Sam had said Dean never gave up on him. But it had been only half truth. Michael remembered very well the hell Sam has been through when sealed up, alone and bound, facing his worst nightmares into a room of steel.

And leaving his brother behind with one last pet Leviathan to keep him company? It felt the same.

He couldn't do that to Lucifer, not again.

_ I'm staying. Lucifer I'm not letting you alone again. Jörmungandr, Mithra, you know what you have to do.

The Hole sealed itself, trapping the two archangels with a flock of angry Leviathans. Eternity would be fun…

But at least, there would be the two of them.

* * *

Gabriel couldn't help but shudder when he felt the Cage open on their current realm. It stunk of rage and despair. Sam's arm tightened around him. It wasn't a relaxing stance, the hunter had obviously never ridden and was pretty stiff about it. It still was quite comforting.

He was feeling drowsy too, with his grace split between sustaining his body, handling the addition of Michael's foreign grace and trying to slow down the collapse of Sam's soul. At this point he wasn't sure whether staying apart would have be better for both. Not that he would say that to his lover.

Despite the ominous feeling coming out of the hole, or maybe because of it, Gabriel couldn't tear his eyes, and other sense, from it. He could see Jör guarding the entrance, the flock of Nightmares disappearing through one after another, tossed by his brothers.

Ende was a small dot dancing onto the thin line between two realms: Purgatory and the Cage. And he had no idea about what she was doing there.

Until Michael threw the last of the Leviathans and Lucifer in. Dragging a strangled cry from Gabriel's throat.

Until he followed in a desperate attempt to get Lucifer out of there. Gabriel's breath stopped. A wounded wail drew out of his lips when the wormhole closed.

But it was nothing compared to the scream that tore through him when he realized what Ende was doing. Her whole essence was unraveling, thread of grace after thread of grace. Each one following a different pattern over the Cage, re-knotting themselves along the bars and her spell work.

She was sealing the Cage again, a giant, sentient seal that would release its content only on its own free will. Including Gabriel's brothers.

Gabriel didn't hear Jynx, Castiel nor Balthazar's gasps as they realized the same thing. And if asked, he couldn't remember the profanities he uttered, or how much he fought Sam's hands trying to hold him back. He couldn't.

He couldn't let his daughter do that to herself, he couldn't let his brothers be prisoners for the rest of eternity.

Except he had to.

Simply because he couldn't do a thing to prevent it. He was too weak, and the grace Michael lent to Sam wouldn't answer his command. White hot tears started burning his eyes and cheeks.

He hadn't asked for this. He just wanted his family back! Dammit, he just wanted his family back, not torn apart further!

Not witness his children be eaten alive by some psycho ogres.

Not see his brothers finally talk to each other and end up trapped in the worst part of Hell.

Not have his first child sacrifice herself to become the Eternal guardian of the Cage.

Then he had to say good bye to the few he had left. His children belonged to the land of the Dead now, and _he_ had to go back to Heaven. It was the only place where he might find a way to recover.

It was time for good byes.

" _Baby… Babies…_

He looked all his remaining children, he was torn. Didn't want to let them behind again. In that wretched place.

" _It's OK Mother. Purgatory isn't that bad. And now that the Leviathans are no longer there to mess it up. We might get a chance to do something there. With Eve's help._

_ I'll miss you…

He embraced them all, within his wings, within his heart. Later, he would let Sam carry him to Earth. Just not yet. Just a little more time.

In the end, he had lost them all.

Pathetic, and weak as he was.

He didn't see any of Hell, too occupied with trying to go back and weeping his heart out into Sam's shirt.

* * *

Sam had awful bags under his eyes, and a waxy shine under mated hair; bathed with gore. And he still was one of the most beautiful being on Earth for the one who raised him. He had already hugged and said his good byes to Cass and Bobby. Even Balthazar. He was now turning to the last one, his brother.

_ So… What's happening now?" Dean tried to sound casual, but he feared the answer like nothing else. He felt like that day when Sam left for Stanford. In worse.

And Sam obviously was no fool. He simply had to look at his brother to know he was barely holding together; his hunched shoulders, one more than the other, the shuffling and lips biting.

And Dean didn't need a verbal answer to know. Sam couldn't stay. Him and Gabriel were ticking bombs running out of time. They didn't just saved the world from the Apocalypse to start one themselves.

_ How long?

Sam breathed, looked sideways, shuffled too.

_ I don't know. But probably not…

_ Don't say it! Don't you say it…" Dean tried to dare his little brother, he ended up pleading.

He was not ready. Truth is, he has never been nor will he ever be ready to say good bye to his little brother. Not when Dean had to leave him behind to hunt with dad, when still secure about the fact Sammy was safer that way. Not when Sam left for Stanford, with great damage and a ton heavy grudge against their father.

And certainly not when Sam was leaving him behind, maybe forever.

_ Not forever Dean." Sam was standing close, closer that Dean would usually allow, and fiddling with Dean's bracelet. " I'll come back to you Dean. I always do. I'm just not certain… how much I will have changed. Nor how long it will take.

_ You better come by before I die, Bitch, or I'll track your ass through all of Heaven and kick it ten ways to Sunday." Dean admonished grumpily.

_ You better not die before I come back. It would be much more difficult to find you if you do. Jerk.

Dean looked down, fiddled with Sam's lapel. Swallowed a few times. Meaning Sam didn't plan to stay in Heaven.

_ It would be too dangerous to stay there, were are unstable. We might do great damage before we find a way.

_ Don't leave me behind. Please Sammy. You promised…" He mumbled into Sam's shirt as his big little brother engulfed him into a tight embrace.

_ It's gonna be OK Dean. You're gonna be fine. You're not alone. Cass, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, they will all be there. With you. You are loved, You are wanted.

Trust Sam to send Dean's own words back to him.

_ And what I am supposed to do, Sammy? Keep hunting and risk making Jo a boyfriend-widow? Stop hunting? Then do what? I know nothing else, and I don't want to hunt with another partner anyway. I need _you_. I…

Aw… Screw being a Winchester and everything that went with it. If it was what it would take to not loose Sam.

_ Anything Sam, you could be everything. I mean it.

Sam blinked once, trying to replace the reference, then did. His gaze softened.

_ I know Dean. But you're wrong." He took Dean's hand and lowered it along his abs, to stay just below his navel. "There are things that just can't be. And they need you. Someday, Jo will need you more than ever.

Dean shook his head and gripped Sam's jacket just a little more desperately.

_ I can't do that. I'm no F… I'm no material.

Sam scoffed. It made a weird movement against Dean's rib-cage.

_ Of course you are." He had raised a hand to cup Dean's wet face. "You were a child yourself, and you had to do it alone. You did well.

Dean shook his head. Sam tightened his grip.

_ Let me be the judge of that. If I say you did well. You did. You made _me_ and I've seen you with kids. This time, you won't be alone. And you'll be great. You'll be amazing. And you won't be alone.

Dean shook his head, not in denial, not exactly, more because he was lost there.

_ It won't be the same without you there.

Sam heaved a deep breath.

_ You. I. We've got time. Man, you're gonna be stuck with me for much longer than you've ever wished for. Someday. Them," he nodded to Bobby besides Cass. "You've only got one life with them. You've got to, _I_ need you to, make it count Dean, for both of us.

Dean swallowed but refrained to shoot back at this. Sam was right: Dean would be the one who would get to spend time with their surrogate family. For his brother though…

He took a step back and squared his shoulders. If it was Sam's last wish, the Hell if Dean wouldn't grant it. No matter how much it was going to hurt.

_ OK. I'll do that.

Then jumped when someone butt-slapped hip. The hell?

_ Gab'…

Sam lightly admonished his handsy lover; clearly not as mad as he should be.

_ Sammish's right; this little old place still needs her Winchesters. And someday, I'm not sure when exactly, your grandfather will need you. And you'll need to hold onto this.

Gabriel, from deep inside his lover's arms, waved a hand toward the spear Dean was still clutching.

_ Samuel?" Dean asked disgruntled. "He's dead, I saw Azazel kill him.

It was rare to see such a hard glint in the small angel's eyes.

_ If you ever cross Samuel Campbell's path; don't ask, shoot him dead." He growled darkly.

Dean quickly glanced at Sam, apparently his brother didn't know more about this than he did.

_ I'm talking about Henry Winchester.

_ How can you be sure that it still will happen. We kind of burnt the book there…" Sam's deep voice echoing Dean's thoughts.

_ Because the ripples will take time to spread. It's like, we burnt the pages of the book but the ink is still there, standing, swaying a bit but not that much as long as no one is pushing. Mostly: because your grandfather is currently lost in a place where nothing that happened there can affect.

Well… that was a bit above Dean's pay grade. So he decided to simply trust the Archangel on his say so and store the information for later. Maybe ask Bobby if he was any luckier in making head or tail to that.

_ And boy." Gabriel's chirping mood swung once again so something serious. "you'd better make sure that Henry doesn't follow the Winchester path of generously sacrificing one's life for naught. You'll need him as much as he'll need you. So you better keep him alive. Keep you both alive. Understood?

Truthfully? Not really. But the order was clear. So Dean nodded.

_ Yessir. And you better take care of my little brother. Or Archangel or not, I'll find a way to make you…

He found himself interrupted by two of Sam's fingers.

_ It's OK Dean.

Not it wasn't, it was the further from OK Dean could imagine. But he was gonna be. He had to.

So with one last, fierce, hug; Dean let go of his little brother, the center of his life, for God knows how long.

…

Scratch that, God still didn't care.

At some point, Bobby and the angels had tactfully retreated out of ear range, at least out of Bobby's ear range.

Dean wrapped his arms around him, suddenly chilled. Then looked down to the warmth that came to rub against his leg in answer to his lonely gesture.

_ Guess it's you and me now, Baby.

She sat on her haunches, head tilted in a familiar motion.

_ What you think about a little sister?

* * *

The End


	50. Chapter 50 - Un singe en Hiver

**Un singe en Hiver - Indochine**

(A monkey in winter - about coming back from Indochine after the war)

* * *

« The Pond »

« A long time ago in a faraway country, there was a Pond; the most beautiful Pond of all, with clear water and trees of many colors bearing delicious fruits. It was the jewel of the whole country, full of buzzing little lives, like bugs and small rodents.

« The white birds, living high in the sky, loved this pond. They would come down and rest their wings under the cool shadows, letting the water's lullaby sooth them to nice reveries. It was such a peaceful place.

« Soon, in their feathery heads, the pond became Their Pond. They loved it so much, made sure it stayed protected and lively.

« All was well and good, the white birds living at peace and visiting the Pond often. Until the fishes came in.

« They weren't too many at first, and weren't too disturbing. But the birds weren't used to changes, and some of them didn't take it kindly to have to share Their Pond. Especially when they discovered how fast the fishes were multiplying, troubling the once clear water and eating the lives around them.

« Soon the birds started bickering about the Ponds newcomers. Some of them liked the fishes, they were amusing to watch, even if as one specie was living in the sky and the other under water, they couldn't understand each other. Others hated the fishes and started to pick on them, even eat them, to make the intruders leave Their Pond.

« The bickering was turning so bad that most of the white birds decided to simply stay up the trees, no longer coming near the surface and mourning the loss of the peaceful times besides the Pond's shore.

« Not many stayed to try to protect the fishes from their siblings prying on them. But the fishes were smart. They quickly learnt to stay deep under water, where the birds couldn't catch them. And a few generations later, they just didn't remember why they didn't go near the surface, but they kept on staying at the bottom. The white birds who had stayed to protect the fishes from their angry siblings then holed up in the trees too.

« Still sometimes, one fish foolish enough to get lured by the angry bird's trills and the reflections of the sun on the water came to the surface, and got eaten.

« One of the white bird, disgusted by its siblings constant bickering had decided to stay near the surface, to keep on watching whatever he could of the fishes while hiding from the angry birds. Simply watching was boring when all on your own, so he took the habit of picking at the fishes that came too close. Not to eat or really maim them, just for fun. Most of the time. And remind them to be scared from going to the surface.

« Until one day, the hiding bird found a fish who wasn't scared of him. No matter how hard he tried to make him go down the pond, the curious fish kept coming back at him, popping bubbles and making figures in the water to get his attention.

« After all this time, the hiding bird had become accustomed to the silent fishes way to communicate. He was pretty surprised to realize the fish was actually ranting after him, not at all cowed by the bird's obvious power.

« It didn't take long for the hiding bird to grow fascinated with the brash fish; then for them to fall in love with each other. But birds live in the air and can't survive under water. And fishes live underwater and can't live in the air.

« Sadly for them, the battle over The Pond flared again; the angry birds trying once again to get rid of all the fishes. Except that no white bird decided to help the vulnerable fishes, they were tired of a fight that had gone too long. They rather let that battle die down for lack of contestant.

« The brave fish then asked his white lover to teach how to speak to the birds. It wasn't easy, since the poor fish had to stand over water to speak the language of the birds and it was slowly killing him.

« It was the first time a fish made the terrible effort of speaking to the white birds; most of them thought the fishes were so dumb they couldn't understand the birds' language, or have any. They stood surprised that a fish could, and dared address them.

« It was a long discussion the fish held with the birds, reminding them that even if the birds were there first, they also had wing to go anywhere else. Fishes were stuck in that Pond. They could never leave. Even then, he had to be held by his lover bird to be able to speak to them. And staying out of water was very tiring for him. His scales, used to the water were drying painfully in the warm air.

« In the end, the poor fish, exhausted, finished with this : "We do no mind sharing the Pond with you white birds. We cannot go elsewhere anyway. So please, if you really feel like you can't bear our sigh, please refrain from ending our existence. There are many Pond within your reach and well beyond ours. I hope you'll find one to suit you."

« Then he died, leaving his lover bird covered with his scales.

« The grieving bird started to speak to his fellow white birds, and it was a much angrier speech he held, facing his brethren still wavering opinion.

« In the end, he didn't give them much of a choice and started to clip the white birds' wings, forcing them to experience the terrible feeling of being stuck on the ground. The others followed quite eagerly toward the pond the fish's lover had chosen. Very far away, so the white birds wouldn't be tempted to come back to The Pond. They did bring with them the poor birds with clipped wings who wanted to leave.

« The new Pond was bigger than the last, with soft red grass and two rising suns. And devoid of any fish, already there or incoming. It was a perfect place to start anew.

« Most of the birds would forget there ever had an old Pound. Some would still pass on the knowledge, and their fondness for the Old Pond.

« The End »

* * *

Tristan closed the book and let his arthritic fingers run through his grand child's thick brown hair.

_ Sleepy head, it's time to let me get up and go to bed.

_ Don't wanna. Wan' another story." The child whined through bleary eyes and a huge yawn.

_ Tomorrow, Ross. Now, get down and go to bed.

The kid grumbled a bit more, then relented and climbed down his grand-dad's lap after pecking him good night. He gathered his plushy and toddled toward the long corridor leading to the bedrooms. The huge, black, panther snoozing nearby got up, stretched lazily, then pawed in the toddler's wake. Always watchful, exactly like Tristan remembered from his childhood.

He carefully heaved himself from the armchair. How, getting older wasn't all fun. Standing in front of the bookshelves, the old man let his, thankfully still good, eyes wander on the titles "Mechanic Heart", "The boy who loved too much", "Returning home", all written by Steve Winchester; Tristan's own grandfather. He tucked "The Pond", between two.

Everyone in the Bunker knew the tale of Steve, spouse Winchester, being thrown a hefty punch by Dean Winchester himself upon ringing to his door to ask for his youngest daughter, Marylene, hand on her twenty-first birthday. Few people ever knew that Steve had been one of Dean's oldest friends, before disappearing on the day of Marylene's birth to come back twenty-one years later.

Tristan was the last one.

He was also the last one to have ever known that the Infamous Dean Winchester had been a Hunter his whole life before meeting Henry Winchester, his own grand-father, freshly out of the vortex of time. And that he had another partner before that, his brother Sam Winchester.

There was a reason why the story before History had gotten lost. Humans needed Faith to live on, to go on fighting. And a story where angels were very real, wanted the Apocalypse and where God has bailed on his Creation was doing nothing to help keep that faith.

So since Angels were gone for good and could never meddle with Earth affairs again, the Winchesters had collectively decided to destroy all records about the Heavenly Host, the Apocalypse and Lucifer and Michael being trapped in the deepest depth of Hell.

There was also that little thing about the Canvas of the Universe having been burned to ashes. It had seemed a good thing at the time, Fate no longer existed, Free Will for all. Except that the fabric of the Universe got fragilized in the process and was a threadbare from unraveling, needing constant sewing back and making sure no one would tug too much at the fabric.

It hadn't been a decision Great-Grand-Pa Dean had made with a light heart. As far as Tristan remembered, there had always been a deep bleeding wound in the old man's eyes, even before Great-Grand'ma's death.

Tristan had been barely twenty the day Great-Grand-Pa Dean had passed away, at the canonical age of 109 years old. He still remembered that day like yesterday.

* * *

Lately, Dean had been confined to a wheel-chair for a few years already, tired and diminished, barely able to cut his own meat or to stay standing more than a couple minutes. He still had eyes as vivid a green as ever and a sharp mind behind them. He was still the Commander, even if he had passed the title to Lauren, Robbie's daughter, before Tristan was even born.

Robbie being the elder of Dean's three children. The middle one was named William, after Jo's father.

They were in the war room, around the world map, debriefing the week's news. They being the family and closed ones. Dean had claimed the seat facing the main entrance, two floors above the room, as soon as he moved in and never relinquished it. Baby always right next to him. Lately, since Tristan was now a full-fledged Hunter of Letter, he was sitting at his great grandfather's left as the Librarian.

So, when the door opened in the middle of Lauren's speech about the new laws Hunter's should be warned about, and the new judge they could rely on, Tristan was only second to Dean to see the newcomer.

He was tall. Like freakishly tall. Broad shoulders, longs legs and a mop of floppy, brownish hair. He had slight swag to his step and a huge grin on his young face.

_ Took you long enough Bitch!

The tall guy threw his head back and laughed. Light and carefree.

_ Nice welcome! Jerk.

He ambled down the stairs and Tristan looked at his parent. Dean's smile was so wide Tristan almost felt his own zygomatic cry in protest. The wound was healed. Samuel Winchester, the man who could only be named by a very few, was back home.

And was currently leaning against the banister and considering the flock around the table. Baby got up to him, familiarly nuzzling at his large hand.

_ Wow… I did tell you to get your own family. But dude! You went above and beyond there.

Dean blushed a bit, his grin never wavering; glowing with pride.

_ Four generations. The fifth's in the making.

_ Had a great life?

It was eerily strange how no one dared pipe-up despite the overall strangeness of it all. To Tristan's eyes, it was mostly because there was no point. The two men were obviously in their own world.

Dean nodded as answer to the question.

_ I missed you, every day.

_ I know. It's over now.

Dean nodded again, said nothing more.

When Sam Winchester came forward, Tristan was able to see that he was as handsome, albeit in a different way, as the young Dean above the arch. Among the portraits of all the members since the reopening of the Bunker. His golden eyes were sparkling with a bit of mischief and overflowing love for the man he was looking at.

He barely spared a glance at the whole lot. He did stop on Randall, Bill's son, and winked at him: "I like your choice". Except that Randall had no idea what he was meaning.

Dean was looking half his age, basked in the glow of his brother's presence. Their hands holding, Sam knelled before his so much older brother now.

_ I've missed you too. _We_ have…

_ I can see that. Are you… whole there?

_ Yes Dee, all me, and a little more. Well… a lot more. Want to hear something awesome?

Dean nodded, always. Then Sam put both his brother's hands over his chest. Those vivid green eyes widened.

_ Holy shit!

Sam's brows wiggled "Wicked, hey?".

There had been some more exchanges. Private ones. Then Sam left, and took his brother away with him "All the stars in the sky Dean, and all the time in the Universe. You'll love it".

"Not as much as I love you."

* * *

Finally. Finished.

Thanks for still being there.


End file.
